In Love and Passion
by Blood Diamond13
Summary: Things happen in the winter. Suicides, phases of depression, births, marraiges... and those things affect the lives of many. Infidelity in a marraige is never an option for an Addams, so what will Gomez and Morticia do when Gomez's betrothed finds them? Afterall, things happen in the winter... dangeorus things. Little do the lovers know that his betrothed is one of them.
1. Qui, to Wealth

The temperature was at an all-time low that night in the mostly slumbering city of Ivorybrooke, Massachusetts. Ice crystals, transparent with a hint of blue, hung from houses like slumbering bats in their dark, damp caves. Feet of white snow fell from the sky, and sparkled when it hit the ground. Feet... seven feet, to be exact.

The town of Rosewood was not busy tonight, like most of the towns in Massachusetts had been lately. Merely fourty to fifty souls were out an about this night. Not that it was a particularly large town. Only five hundred people lived there.

The sky was black, however due to the change in weather, it looked a tad purple-pink. White, puffy clouds, blending in with eachother and spilling inches of snow at a time out of themselves. The town looked much older than it was at night. At night, the buildings and houses looked a bit European, almost like they belonged in the city of Québéc.

The exhausted people whom walked the streets at night -fifteen of them prostitutes-, were all the same. All wishing for more money, all upset about the way things were going, all as happy as clams during the day, so as to put out the _everything's fine_ illusion.

A short and almost destitute woman, fourty years of age walked from her waitressing job at Rosewood's favorite restaurant, _Orpheus_ , to her home.

Her dwelling was large, but in poor shape from the outside. It was a two hundred year old, abandoned mess. It was quite cheap, a steal for how much space it provided. She loved the cobwebs, hated the lonliness. It didn't matter that her two daughters were with her. She missed her deceased husband of twenty years... the father of her children, whom she was left with.

A near eighteen year old Morticia Addams sat at her bedroom window. Her porcelain complexion, the color of the snow sticking to her windowsill. Her long, black, gothic dress, not nearly keeping her usually ice cold skin warm enough.

She shivered, but did not move. Instead, she continued to watch the snow fall. The sensation was almost melodic, nearly putting her to sleep.

Morticia's bedroom walls were black, with a hint of purple. Her floor was mahogany, and her bed was queen sized with black, gothic bedsheets. Her window had purple and black curtains.

Her dark brown eyes glanced at the black, old clock her wall. The roman numerals on it read 10:50 pm.

She decided it would be one of those nights, one of the nights where her mother didn't come home until very late. Morticia reluctantly moved from her spot, and walked over to her mirror. She went through her usual nightly ritual then. She stared, longingly at her father, mister Charles S. Frump's picture and cried. She then took a tissue off of her black vanity and wiped her tears away.

Normally, she would cry for an hour or so on Kitty Cat, her only friend. But the two year old West African lion was asleep, and Morticia didn't want to disturb him.

She removed her makeup, seeing as her mascara was smudged. She then slipped out of her dress and looked at herself in the mirror. Her midnight black hair cascaded down her back. Her matching black push-up bra and panties complemented her curvy form. Morticia's body was at the very least, enivable. She had the measurments of 37"-23"-37" and very prominant cheekbones. The five foot nine beauty's legs stretched on for days. And her feet were the smallest in her family, a size six. However, she was still unhappy.

How badly did she want her mother to snap out of her depression, and for her father to still be alive. He was her best friend. Now, all she had was his pet lion and his picture on her vanity. He was the only person who ever expressed how much she truly meant in their life. Now, he was gone.

She slipped into her long, silky, black nightgown. It was low-cut in a v-neck and had long sleeves. Her black toenails didn't poke through this nightgown, as it extended down to the floor.

She brushed her hair, and laid it over her right shoulder. She stared Kitty, whom was sleeping next to her bed, through her mirror. She smiled. It was silly, but it felt like her father was almost watching her through Kitty. She loved the idea of that.

"Morticia!" Ophelia ran into her younger sister's room.

The nineteen year old was Morticia's polar opposite. She had long, wavy, sunny-golden blonde hair. Her skin was fair white, but she tanned easily. Whereas, Morticia didn't tan. At all. And Ophelia's eyes were crystal blue. She wore yellow all of the time. She was also a huge fan of pastels and white. She absolutely adored daisies and would find a way to incorporate them into her wardrobe somehow, even if it wasn't completely following the latest trend. She was wearing her yellow, long sleeved and low-cut, short, silk nightgown. Her nails and toenails were painted white and she wore a messy bun in her hair. All of her makeup was off.

"Yes, Ophelia?" Morticia asked, her demeanor calm as ever.

"Mother's home. She says she has big news, and-" She then heard the lion snore. "Mother told you not to keep creature in your bedroom."

"Well, _that creature_ happens to be a very dear and personal friend, Ophelia." Morticia explained.

"For God's sake, Morticia! Why don't you make _people_ friends?" Ophelia suggested.

"Ophelia, I tried that. People friends just don't like it when you ask them if they'd like to have a picnic in the cemetary."

"No. They just don't like being invited for tea, and then nearly being eaten by a hungry West Asian lion!"

"West _African_." Morticia corrected.

Ophelia rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"So, before you freaked out over Kitty, you were saying that mother had big news?"

Ophelia scoffed. "Yes. Are you coming?"

"I know how exhausted mother is. Are you sure this can't wait until morning?" Morticia asked.

"Yes. It's about me!" Ophelia then ran downstairs, and her sister walked after her.

They then walked into their living room to meet their mother. Their living room was average, looked like the average American family's living room. It was classy, all of the furniture from the house came with it.

"Girls, sit down." Esmeralda greeted her daughters and sat on a chair across from them, while they sat on the couch.

"Do you remember Rosemary and Alistair Addams?" Esmeralda asked.

"Oh, yes. They were such an interesting-" Morticia was cut off.

"If course I do! They Addams' are only one of the richest families in America!" Ophelia shreiked.

Esmeralda nodded. "Well, Ophelia..."

The phone rang.

"I'll get it." Morticia excused herself and answered the phone in the kitchen. "It's Amelio!" She called to Ophelia.

Amelio was the boy she had been seeing for the past month, although he was more like a _Sugar Daddy_. He bought her everything under the sun, even a _Ferari_ , which she forbid anyone and everyone in the family to use. All she had to do was love him, mostly physically. And she had no problem with that.

"He wants you to marry him!" This was nothing new for Ophelia. Every boy she used fell madly in love with her, and whenever things got too serious, she would break their hearts.

Morticia felt sorry for the poor boy.

"Maybe!" Ophelia called back. "Tell him to hang on!"

"Hold a moment, please." Morticia said to him.

"Mother, what were you saying?" Ophelia asked.

"Well, dear... Mr. Addams wants to marry you."

Opehlia squealed. "Morticia, tell him I said no!"

"Very well, Ophelia!" Morticia sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Amelio. She's turned you down. I'm sure you'll find that special someone soon." She then hung up and sat back down on the couch.

"Now, mother? What about the Addams'?" Morticia asked.

"Mr. Addams wants to marry me!" Ophelia screamed, happily.

"Well, I'm not sure if he _wants_ to marry you."

Ophelia looked dejected. "Morticia, you may want to give Amelio a call back."

"No, no, no!" Esmeralda replied, hastily. "He is going to marry you. His parents and I decided... after your father died, that you would marry his elder brother, Fester Addams."

"Oh. There's two?"

"Not anymore. Fester ran off a week later. Now, Gomez is going to take his place. He's Morticia's age."

"Wait... how much is he worth?" Ophelia asked.

 _"Ophelia."_ Morticia was appauled. "You aren't serious."

"Shut up, Morticia." Ophelia continued. "So, how much?"

"Let me put it this way, dear." Esmeralda put a hand on her daughter's knee. "If Mr. Addams paid to send each individual member of the Addams clan to Harvard two hundred times, he would still have enough money to provide a decent life for a family of seven, and send all of them to the moon... twice."

Ophelia's eyes were hungry. "I need him."

"That's just his personal account. Which he has access to, since he turned eighteen two months ago."

"Ophelia, I'm ashamed of you." Morticia spoke. "Really, a marraige isn't supposed to be about money. What about love, passion, mutual respect for God's sake?" She asked, knowing Ophelia would cheat in a heartbeat because nothing would make her happy.

"Oh, grow up, Morticia!" Ophelia slapped her arm. "It's all about money now. And dear, if you haven't noticed, men take one look at me, and want to give me all of it."

Ophelia was right. Men always fell for her. She wasn't curvy. Her measurements were 35"-24"-35". But she was five foot six and beautiful by the standards of magazines and any man she came across. Hell, even some women wanted her. And if the girls didn't want her, they wanted to be her.

Nobody ever did that for Morticia. True, most men admittedly watched her hips as she walked, looked at her with hungry eyes, wanted the gothic beauty. But Morticia was a hard nut to crack. And no man had ever really been brave enough to open her up, nor had she wanted them to do so.

"So, where do these people live, mother?" Morticia asked.

"Three cities over, in Mockrage, about an hour away. They live in the town of Briarwood, in the Cemetary Ridge district." Esmeralda recalled.

"Cemeraty Ridge?" Ophelia gulped. She tried to think of any possible excuse to make the family still seem normal.

"Do they live on that beautiful hill?" Morticia asked.

"Yes. 324 Candeltop Hill, how did you know?" Esmeralda asked.

"I always loved that hill. I remember it from when we used to visit Uncle Albert. He lived in that district." Esmeralda's brother was the black sheep of her side of the family, besides Esmeralda herself. He was what some might refer to as, a nut.

"Well, Ophelia... we're meeting him at his cousin's funeral, in three days. Mr. Addams is hosting it. It's going to be held at the Addams' home. There you'll get aquainted with him, and we'll discuss when the wedding will be."

"Oh, mother, thank you!" Ophelia hugged Esmeralda. "I can't wait!"

Morticia sighed. Great. He was probably the same as all of the other rich men interested in her sister. A sophisticated, snobby, wine-loving prick. Well, at least she could bring Kitty. Or at least, she hoped.

"Mother, I can bring Kitty, can't I?" Morticia asked.

"Hell no!" Ophelia shut her down. "No, absolutely not! I will not have Mr. Addams thinking our family is nuts because my wackjob sister wants to show off her lion."

"Mother?" Morticia asked again, ignoring her sister.

"Yes. But you must keep him locked in the guestroom at all times. Understood?"

"Yes, of course." Morticia nodded.

Esmeralda then poured herself and her daughters a glass of red wine. "To Ophelia!" She shouted.

"To money!" Ophelia proclaimed.

Morticia said nothing, but clinked cups with her mother and her sister and listened to the chat about what their new life would look like.

She couldn't stand it anymore after an hour, and she went upstairs to bed. Just before she was about to fall asleep, Ophelia walked into her bedroom.

"Hello, Morticia." She sat at the edge of her sister's bed.

"Ophelia." Morticia greeted her, and reached one hand down so she could pet Kitty.

"Don't be mad at me, dear. Please." Ophelia smiled at her.

"I'm not mad." Morticia responded.

"Good. Then I won't feel bad saying this." Ophelia looked her sister in the eyes, dead serious. "Don't fuck this up for me, Morticia. Be nice, and distance yourself from that man because he is _going to marry me_. Make him think you're at least somewhat normal, for my sake. And if he doesn't want to talk to you for whatever reason, flatter him and tell him about me. In all your years as my sister, please, please do this _one_ thing for me. Make sure he loves _Madame Frump_." She paused and walked to the doorway. "Got that?"

Morticia nodded and turned over. "Qui."


	2. In Place of My Brother

The snow fell extremely hard on Candeltop Hill. It prevented anyone from entering or exiting the Addams' estate. Lurch, their zombie-like but loyal butler, had been shuffling all morning.

The Addams estate was thousands, _thousands_ of square feet and acres upon acres of land. The exterior structure was strong, mahogany wood. And there was a balcony coming out of the master bedroom on the fifth floor, which nobody used. It looked like a real haunted mansion, with the boar's head in the living room and the cobwebs that lurked in every corner of the house. The stairs before the door, that extended up to the grand hall were six feet across. A set of stairs was on either side of the miniature second floor, these stairs were three feet across. They led up to the second floor. There were seven stories total in the Addams estate, including the basement/dungeon and attic. The house was grand, and a dream habitat for anyone in the Addams clan, as well as a few spiders.

Normally, eighteen year old Gomez Addams paid no heed to the snow. He actually quite enjoyed it. However, today was not one of those days. How was his family supposed to host the biggest funeral the family had had since he was born? They could hold everything inside... no, perhaps they would just have to reshcedule.

But the real, more pressing matter that troubled Gomez, was that he was to be married soon. He was to be married soon, to a woman he didn't even know existed two days ago! He wanted love, passion... oh, who was he kidding? His wanted love and passion, true. But he also just wanted to be free. He had his way with a new woman every other week. It wasn't that he used them. They knew perfectly well there was no real, honest connection. But Gomez wanted a good time, a dirty distraction, and they could give it to him. But he knew he never really loved them. Not a single one of them. Now, it was all over. He had a feeling this Ophelia Frump, hsi bride to be, would never be his true love. Now, he had to suffer through the rest of his life with this woman, because infidelity was not an option... let alone for an Addams.

Thoughts raced about Gomez's mind as he blew up train after train in his private room in the basement. It had old, dusty birck walls and a grey, stone floor. Artifacts from Addams' past lined the walls. Such as, different types of weaponry and a painting of a giraffe in a tuxedo, or different skulls and other foreign or, _weird_ objects. In the middle of it all, was Gomez's enormous train set. And whenever he was upset, he went down into the basement. And like any red-blooded, grown Ameircan man, he played with his trians. And play, meant blowing them up.

There came a knock at the door.

"Who is it?" Gomez asked, in his sensual Italian/Castilian accent. His voice was naturally sexy, and it helped when picking up women. And if the voice didn't work, his charm would.

"It's your father." Alistair replied. His voice was more American than his son's was. He had a slight accent, so he wasn't sure where his son picked up his. But ever since he could speak, that was what he sounded like.

"I'm busy, Father." Gomez said.

"No, son, you're not." Alistair sighed. "Let me in."

"Father, please. I'm thinking."

"Then you aren't as smart as I thiught you were. You've been _thinking_ for the past four hours now, ever since dinner."

Gomez knew that his father would let himself in, if he didn't. "Come in father."

"That's better." Alistair walked in and shut the door behind him. "Now, take off that ridiculous conductor's cap and sit down."

Gomez reluctantly oblidged, and sat next to his father on the park bench that he and Fester had stolen as kids, that was placed near the train table.

"Yes, father?"

Alistair put a hand on his son's knee.

Gomez was six foot two, and muscular. His facial hair formed two lines above his lip that could arouse the dead. His eyes were dark brown, almost black. His hair was black, and slicked back. And his skin was olive-colored. Formally, he dressed in navy blue, but sometimes black or another dark color, pinstriped suits. But today, he was in his casual ensemble. His style was sometimes sexually swashbuckling, while other times it was dark and classy. He hated bright colors, the only light color he ever wore was white, for his undershirts. Today, he wore black suitpants, a black undershirt and a dark red suit-vest with gothic designs on it. He wore matching black dress shoes.

"Gomez, why don't you want to marry Ophelia?" Alistair asked. Alistair looked just like a fourty five year old version of his son. Only, his hair was not slicked back and he really only ever wore pinstiped suits.

"Father, I don't want to give my life to anyone! I haven't found the right person!" Gomez threw up his hands. "I want to find the right woman, you must understand that!" He stood an walked about the room.

"I don't." Alistair admitted.

"What?" Gomez was shocked.

"At least, not with you!" Alistiar's hand motions were oddly similar to his son's when he spoke, and he stood as well. "Gomez, we've had this conversation every time you've found a new girl! You don't even bring them home half of the time!"

Gomez raised an eyebrow.

"You don't even introduce them to us half the time!" Alistair rephrased the sentence. "Gomez, you need to learn to grow up and take some responsibility!"

"Oh, don't talk to me about responsibility! _Who was it who almost lost our entire fortune in a gambling addiction seven years ago?_ " Gomez pointed at him.

Alistair stepped closer to his son. " _Don't_ bring my gambling into this, Gomez!"

"Well, then _don't_ talk to me about responsiblity!" Gomez yelled.

"At least _I_ still talk to _my_ brother!"

Those words stung Gomez's heart worse than a thousand hornets. " _Don't_ bring Fester into this." He fought back tears.

"Past regrets being brought to the light hurt, don't they?"

 _"Get out."_ Gomez was seething.

"Son, I'm sorry. Alright?"

"Leave!" Gomez shouted.

Alistair stepped face-to-face to his son. "You know, somebody ought to put you in your place once in a while."

"Get. Out. Now!" He yelled.

Alistiar slapped him across the face then.

Gomez put a hand to his cheek and was about to give his father a slap back when Alistair grabbed his arm.

"Son... sit down. Right now."

Gomez was still angry, but allowed his father to lead him back to the bench.

"Gomez... look at me."

Gomez looked his father. Tears stung both of their eyes.

"I'm sorry, father." Gomez said.

Alistair chuckled. "You're too much like me."

"How so?" Gomez asked.

"You're way too passionate. God, son, you have to learn to control your temper."

"I wonder where I get _that_ from." Gomez stated, sarcastically.

"Well, you're mother can get pretty angry, too."

"Wonderful, so I'm fucked either way." Gomez laughed.

"You've got that right." Alistair slapped his son's shoulder. "Gomez, I'm going to tell you something. And it's going to hurt. I'm not trying to hurt you..." Alistair sighed. "Gomez, after your brother ran away... I knew I had to make sure that we kept our family growing. Gomez, you were always more reliable than Fester."

"How dare-"

"Son, there's no easy way to say this, but shut up." Alistair continued. "I loved your brother just as much as I love you. But I _do_ trust you more. I trust you to make the right decision."

"What decision? There is _no_ decision!"

"Gomez, ultimately you can choose to be for this family or against it. And I know and trust that you will make the right decision." Alistair explained.

"Father, I want to live my own life. Why can't you trust me to do _that_?" Gomez asked.

"You wanna know why? I'll tell you why. Gomez, you're an eighteen year old, male slut." Alistair said, honestly.

 _"Father!"_

"Would you like me to call you a pimp instead? I mean, we both know the girls you... like have been reccomended to your _ridiculous_ friends for the price of whiskey!"

"No. I prefer slut, thank you." Gomez responded.

"Look, son... I need you to think of somebody besides yourself for once." Alistair finally said.

Gomez said nothing.

"Can you do that? _Please?_ " Alistair asked.

"Yes, father. I've thought about this family a lot... that's why I'm doing this." Gomez replied.

"Good man." Alistair embraced his son. "Make me beautiful grandchildren."

"Where are the words, _make me proud_?" Gomez asked.

"I already know you will."

"What, are you saying I might have ugly children?" Gomez asked, jokingly.

"Maybe... if the wife is ugly."

"You're terrible, father."

"Yea..." Alistair broke their embrace. "So are you."

"Did you kill eachother yet?" Rosemary asked from behind the door. Her accent was slightly English.

"No, mother! We're both very much alive!" Gomez called to her.

"Oh, damn it. Now I'll have to make more leg of yak!" Rosemary laughed.

"I'll die next time, mother!" Gomez joked.

"Thank you, Gomez!" The fourty year old ran a finger through her brown-red hair. It was wavy and down to her upper back. She wore dark red gothic dresses, sometimes witch-like. She occasionally wore other dark colors or black. Her eyes were brown and her nails were long. Her skin was fair white, but on the slightly paler side. She didn't tan, she just burned. So, she had to stay out of the sun. She was in her long, silky and flowing, crimson colored nightgown. Her hair was in a bun with two curly strands hanging in front of her face. She was a beautiful lady, didn't look day over thirty five.

"My pleasure!" These words earned him a slap on the shoulder from his father.

"Alright, son..." Alistair stood. "I think you know what you need to do, right?"

"Yes, father, I do." Gomez shook his head, as if to try and convince himself that all of this was for the best.

"Good." Alistair walked out. "Get some sleep tonight, Gomez!" He called.

About an hour of sitting, and comprehending what he should do, and Gomez was completely spent. He put his conductor's cap on the coat rack, bid the little man in one of the train-cars goodnight, and went upstairs to bed.

He laid in bed for hours, confused and upset. He didn't know what was worse... lying to his father about knowing what to do, or lying to his father about thinking about the family. He wasn't doing either of thise things. And right now, he wasn't sure he wanted to.


	3. I Could Tame a Lion

One week later -as the funeral had to be resheduled-, Esmeralda and her daughters readied themselves to meet Ophelia's bethrothed. It was supposed to rain all day, and rain it did. There was only about ten inches of snow on the ground now, and about twelve on Candletop Hill.

"Girls, come on! We're going to be late for the funeral!" Esmeralda called from her bedroom. She looked in her mirror. After her husband had died, her angelic red hair had turned-brownish grey. It somehow got even curlier. Her blue eyes lost their sparkle, they were replaced by ice. She felt her hands had more wrinkles than before. She delved even more into her witchcraft. She now wore rags, and fishnet, and rings galore. She went from one hundred thirty pounds to one hundred fifty two... and she was only five foot two.

She almost cried as she reminiced about her hair... oh God, she missed her hair. She had one distinct memory of her curly, big red hair down to her butt... she loved that memory. _She was wearing her high waisted black jeans and a black, flowy, high-low and long sleeved, cold-shoulder shirt with her black heeled boots and wrist-length, fishnet gloves. Her eyes were still sparkling... she and her husband were holding eachother and watching the storm in the doorway. They were watching Morticia hold up a lighting rod in the sky, hoping to catch the lightning while Ophelia played with her barbies on the back porch under her bright pink umbrella. She smiled and laughed as she told her husband how much he looked like their youngest_ _daughter. His skin tone was more Ophelia, though. Other than that, he looked so much like Morticia._

But that memory was immideatley clouded by a new one. _Charles, her dear husband, Charles... he was upstairs in Morticia's room, feeding her pet vultures, Hubert and Henry the second(s) with her. Next thing she knew, her daughter was screaming bloody murder, and not the good kind. Esmeralda ran upstairs, frightened. When she got to sixteen year old Morticia's bedroom, he was collapsed on the floor, shaking uncontrollably. Everything else happened in a blur. Her husband being rushed to the emergancy room, the doctors and nurses all telling her that he had had a very severe stroke. He was going to make it but then Esmeralda brought him his favorite soup, and she put a spider in it because he loved spiders (not live, of course) and the next day, he fell ill... he started coughing up more blood than normal. They said he caught a disease overnight... he was allergic to Dwarft Spiders. She couldn't bring herself to say goodbye for more than three minutes. Ophelia felt sorry for everyone, and was sad, but she was never particularly close with him. Morticia spent Charles' last moments with him. After that day, her life changed forever. She moved because she didn't have enough money to support their dream house, she had to take two jobs at a horrible restaurant, and she had to marry off her daughter._

Esmeralda cried and quickly wiped her tears when her daughters walked in.

"Mother, are you all packed?" Morticia asked.

Esmeralda nodded. "Uh, yes. Yes, darling. Do you both have all of your luggage?"

"Yes, now hurry up! I don't wanna be late!" Ophelia squealed.

Morticia rolled her eyes. "Ophelia... dear sister, it's a _funeral_ we're going to. Are you _quite_ sure you should step up to Balthazar's coffin wearing a bright yellow, white lace, chiffon gown?" Morticia looked her sister up and down.

Ophelia's exposed quite a bit of cleavage, which Ophelia didn't have much of. She wore matching white 4 in. heels with ankle straps, and her hair was up.

Ophelia flashed a smile more sour and disingenuine than Regina George's from _Mean Girls_ "Yes, my outfit screams, _money_! Your's on the other hand, is a cry for help."

Morticia raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, Morticia. I forgot you have no soul and you don't ever cry for help."

Esmeralda rolled her eyes. "Please be nice to your sister, Ophelia. At least for today."

"Yes, dear." Morticia agreed. "You need to be able to fool this man into thinking your sweet."

Ophelia scoffed, offended. "Come on!" She picked up her luggage and walked out of the room.

"I think you look lovely, darling." Esmeralda said to Morticia."Merci, Mother." Morticia smiled, slightly and took after Ophelia, Esmeralda in toe.

Kitty took his place in the cage-car with wheels that was attatched to the family car. Esmeralda had it made for Morticia's last birthday.

Morticia gave him his favorite toy, a plush toy with a squeaker in it that represented a human girl... Ophelia always thought it bared a strange resemblance to her.

Three cities over, Gomez dressed in a navy blue, pinstriped suit. He put on a black tie, it was his cousin's. He slipped on his black dress shoes and walked into the backyard, waiting anxiously for the guests to arrive, and not the police. Afterall, he was still a suspect in Blathazar's murder.

An hour later, the funeral was in full swing. The band played all of Balthazar's favorite peices, including _March of the Electric Octopi_. It was a waltz he wrote.

Gomez deicded to mingle with Balthazar's three, greiving ex-girlfriends. "Hello, ladies. I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

The ladies all stopped crying and instantly began to shamelessly flirt with him.

"Oh, Mr. Addams... thank you." Amelia, short and stocky but quite pretty, began to fee his muscles as she spoke. "Yes, he was so... strong."

The other girls followed her lead.

Donna, blonde and six foot tall, spoke. "Tell me, Mr. Addams, do you work out?"

Gomez chuckled "Well, I-"

"Shh!" Mickenna, average height and emo as all hell, shoved both girls and kissed him. "He's mine."

"Please, we're standing by his coffin." Gomez tried to show some restraint.

He then heard his cousin laugh, as a sign of approval from the grave. Gomez winked at the ground and kissed her back.

Alistair then marched up to his son and grabbed him. He pulled him to the gate in the front of the house. He slapped him. "Gomez, show some restraint!"

"I did, she was coming onto _me_!" Gomez replied, defensively. "Anyway, I had to do it, for Balthazar. He laughed as a sign of aproval."

"Ha. Ha. Ha." Alistair was _not_ laughing. "Look, your bride to be will be here any minute. Turn on your usual charm."

Rosemary walked up to them and started fussing with Gomez's tie. "Yes. Oh, now the mother says to pay no mind to her sister, she's rather eccentric."

"Yes, mother." Gomez was basically on charming autopilot.

Then, a car with a cage with wheels attatched to it, pulled up in the driveway. Esmeralda was the first to step out. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Addams." She walked up to Gomez.

Gomez kissed her hand. "The pleasure is mine. And please, call me Gomez."

"Oh, a charmer. My Ophelia's just going to adore you." Esmeralda smiled and greeted Mr. and Mrs. Addams with a wave fo her hand. "Hello."

"Hello." They greeted the nervous woman.

Gomez watched Esmeralda open the door and outstepped the most enchanting woman he had ever set eyes on. She looked to be his age, of course they both looked very mature for eighteen. Her skin was as white as the fallen snow, it could make the corpse of his deceased cousin blush. Her lips were crimson and her eyes were dark. Her silky midnight black hair cascaded down her back. She wore a long, black dress that extended down past her ankles. It was classy, and low-cut in a vneck. The dress was long sleeved, and had a slit in the side up to her lower thigh. She wore black tights with the ensemble and completely black, 3 in. high heels with ankle straps. Her nails were blood red, and she wore dangly black diamond earrings. The woman's eye makeup matched her outfit. Her figure was glorious, and her legs stretched on for miles. And her cheekbones... Gomez began to breath hard.

Morticia took a black leash out of the car and walked over to the now open cage. She clicked her teeth. "Here, Kitty, Kitty. Come her, baby..."

Gomez smiled. He figured her cat would probably be black and as mysterious as she was.

A lion then stepped out of the crate and sat, obidiently waiting for Morticia to slip the leash around his neck. She did so, and the lion walked with her, and stopped when she did, infront of Gomez Addams.

Gomez was in awe. This woman tamed a lion, _a notorious beast, king of the jungle_. Thoughts then rattled Gomez's mind. If she could get a lion to submit to her, imagine what she could do to him.

"Hello, Mr. Addams." Morticia held out her hand.

Gomez was immideatley brought back to reality by the sound of her voice. Her voice was beautiful, sensual... it sounded like the voice of a black angel... and Gomez wanted to hear it all of the time. "Uh, oh yes, it's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Frump. And please, call me Gomez." He kissed her hand for much longer than needed.

Morticia should have told him to stop, but she couldn't. The minute she saw the handsome man, she was instantly captivated. And his voice, and his soft, alluring lips... well, she couldn't help herself. Self control was her middle name. But in his presense, she lost it all.

"The pleasure is mine." Morticia gently took her hand back. "This is Kitty Cat." She gestured to her lion.

Gomez was still staring at those beautiful, brown eyes. "She's magnificent."

" _He_ , Mr. A- Gomez." Morticia corrected him.

"Who?" Gomez asked.

Morticia couldn't bare to look into his eyes any longer. They made her heart burst. The sight of him, the touch of his lips, his voice... it all gave her a mental orgasm. And she was beginning to sense she had the same effect on him. "My pet, Kitty. Kitty's a male."

"Oh, yes. Of course." He glanced at the lion, the poor thing was obviously tired. "He's brilliant."

Kitty proudly lifted his head.

"Oh, he just loves compliments." Morticia explained and bent down to scratch his head. "Don't you, darling? Who's my big, strong boy?"

Kitty rolled over and she rubbed his belly.

She looked up at Gomez. "He doesn't bite. You can pet him if you'd like."

Gomez chuckled, and the sound sent chills down Morticia's spine. "Alright."

"Oh, let him sniff you first. The poor dear is actually terribly shy." Morticia warned.

Gomez did as he was told and Kitty licked him. He took this as a good sign and rubbed his belly. The lion was just soaking up all of the affection.

Gomez moved his hand slightly and it landed right on top of Morticia's. He looked into her eyes once more, and he was intoxicated. They stayed like that for a while, and Kitty raised an eyebrow.

Their gaze was broken by Ophelia stepping out of the car.

Gomez and Morticia stood up, quickly.

Ophelia ran up to Alistair. "Hello, Gomez!" She threw her arms around him and kissed him.

Rosemary was taken aback. " _We're_ Gomez's mother and father, dear."

Ophelia then realized her error. "My appologizes, Mr. and Mrs. Addams."

Ophelia then ran to Gomez and pushed Morticia out of the way, but thankfully Gomez caught her and stood her up. He figured this was the eccentric sister he was warned about.

"Hello, Gomez!" Ophelia squealed and kissed him, right on the lips.

For some odd reason, Morticia felt a pang of jealousy. She couldn't understand why. But she didn't like it. Self control was all she had left. Losing control would mean losing everything, and she couldn't let that happen.

"Well, it was wonderful to meet you, Gomez. And I can't wait to get to know both you and your parents. But Kitty is very tired. I really ought to get him to bed."

Gomez would rather the sun crash into the earth than let her leave. "Are you sure? Lurch can take him upstairs to the guestroom."

"Quite, Kitty doesn't always take to strangers. I need to unpack as well. Besides, I really should give you time to get to know your bride-to-be." God, to say those words was like pushing a knife into her gut.

"Precisely, I-" Gomez then realized that his wife to be... was the blonde one, wearing yellow, who had just kissed his father. "I didn't get your name."

Morticia realized then, that she was too busy with her thoughts that would force a preist into therapy, to give him her name. "I'm Morticia."

"What a beautiful name." Gomez remarked.

"Oh, why, thank you. My father thought of it."

"Oh, where is your father?" Gomez asked.

"Dead." Morticia said.

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, Gomez."

 _"Okay!"_ Ophelia interupted. "Yes, our father is dead. It's sad. I cry about it all of the time."

Gomez was staring at Morticia, still.

"Uh, Gomez?" Ophelia waved a hand infront of his face.

"Oh, yes of course. I'm so sorry." He paused. "Lurch, will you please take their things and Kitty to the guestrooms, please?"

Oh, no. Now Morticia was going to have to spend an entire evening pretending not to love her sister's fiancé. What a _wonderful_ way to spend the day, two weeks before her birthday. She felt like she was going to vomit.

"Well, why don't we take a walk then?" Ophelia linked arms with Gomez. "We'll leave our parents to discuss plans for the wedding, hmm?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea." Gomez smiled. "Morticia, would you care to join us?"

"Oh... I really must be going-"

"I insist." Ophelia smiled. This suprised everyone.

"Well, alright." Morticia decided. Her sister was playing a game, and Morticia wasn't about to be on the losing end. All hell would break loose if she was.


	4. Train Me

Ophelia and Gomez had been walking with Morticia for the past three hours. Gomez had shown Ophelia the boggs, the crypt, nearly everything. He even showed her the tall trees, even though it was raining.

Morticia barely talked, giving the pair space, whilst repressing her feelings. But she couldn't help the looks she and Gomez shared at every opportunity possible... or the things that Gomez would say to her. _Morticia, you have beautiful eyes._ or _Morticia, Kitty is something. However did you train him?_ Any chance he got to talk to her.

He forgot all other women around Morticia. It wasn't just because she was the most beautiful woman in the history of everything, it was that her personality, her demeanor drove him wild with passion and desire. How was it possible that he loved her? He had barely spent five minutes alone with her.

He _had_ tried to connect with Ophelia. But it was blatantly obvious that she didn't love him. All she desired was his money, it was all she asked about. He showed her his cousin's coffin, she asked how much it cost. He showed her the family car, she asked how much _it_ cost. He showed her his grandmother's ring, and she asked how much that cost. And the woman was always putting down her younger sister. Not to mention, she complained about the most superficial and shallowest of things. _There's dirt on my shoes, my hair is floppy, Gomez your tie isn't on right. I used to date this man with a big nose, well he asked me to marry him and I just couldn't go through with it. Not to mention, he was small._

"Are you two listening?" Ophelia asked them.

"Hmm?" Morticia, as well as Gomez were ripped from their thoughts. "Yes, you were talking about how Gomez was much better looking than Pierre." Morticia said.

"No. I was _talking_ about how George was small and Gomez clearly isn't."

Morticia's eyes grew wide. _"Ophelia."_

"Well, he isn't." She kissed Gomez's cheek. "You're not, right, honey?"

The nickname made Gomez physically ill. And he wasn't particularly fond of the conversation's topic. "Yes. Right. No, I'm... I think it's rather hot out here."

"Well, we could go inside. I'm assuming you have air conditioning?"

"We do." Gomez nodded.

"Well, let's go inside, then. I'm cold too." Ophelia forced Gomez's arm around her and looked up at him. "And besides, darling... I need some help unpacking."

"Oh, I can send Lurch. I'm sure he'd be happy to help you." Gomez said, quickly. "Oh, I hear a gong. It's almost time for the eulogy."

Ophelia seemed offended. Nobody had ever shown little interest in her... _ever_. Well, this simply wouldn't do. Not at all. "I see." She said. "Well, I'll be off. I need to get my beauty rest. Gomez, be a dear and come into my room before the night's over." She began to walk off then. "We need to talk."

Gomez was then alone with the only person he thought about since they met. "Have I done something wrong?" He asked her.

"Yes." Morticia said. "You have. You've made my sister feel unwanted. Gomez," she looked him in the eyes. "You are marrying my sister. You are not marrying me. I think, under the circumstances, you ought to go to her and appologize."

Gomez couldn't help but love her, even though she was clearly angry. He stepped closer to her. "Morticia, the last thing I wanted to do was to offend your sister."

Morticia took a step back. "No, as a matter of fact, I think that is _exactly_ what you wanted to do. You wanted to show me just who I was dealing with. You wanted me to know just what you wanted. Gomez, I've never thought myself vain, but I've noticed the remarks, and the glances. You. Want. _Me_."

"Alright. I give up, it's true! I do. And I can't help it. Morticia, from the moment I met you, I was captivated."

"I think you _can_ help it. You see, Gomez, I've done some reading up on you. You have had your way with one hundred women, on record. Now, suppose I did have feelings for you... how could I trust them? How do I know this isn't another one of your flings?"

Gomez had never felt so awful. He didn't even realize the kind of man he was... the kind of man that drove his brother off. The dark goddess before him was right. He was a cad, and he didn't want to be anymore. He wanted her... he wanted _only_ her for the rest of eternity. "You would just have to trust me. Morticia, ever since I met you, I haven't looked at or thought about another woman."

"You met me three hours ago." Morticia said.

"I know. Morticia, I can promise you that I would never intentionally hurt you." He paused. " _Or_ your sister."

"How many times have you used that line?" Morticia asked, arms crossed, gracefully.

"Never. I'm not a liar, Morticia. I am many, many things but a liar is not one of them." He took Morticia's delicate, ice cold hand. "And I'm not lying now, when I say that you are the most enchanting woman I've ever seen or met, and that I will _ever_ see or meet."

Morticia wanted so badly to trust him. But she couldn't. She lost too much already. She took her hand away. "Even _if_ I believed you, this entire thing is ridiculous. Yes, I'm opposed to arranged marraige. But this isn't the right way to voice my dissaproval. My sister is going to marry you. You are going to marry my sister. And..." She couldn't understand why, but a tear unwillingly ran down her porcelain cheek. "You are going to forget you ever thought you loved me. They all do." She didn't mean to say that last part out loud. "Understand? But if I'm going to be your sister-in-law, show me you can change... for my sister."

"Who hurt you, Morticia?" Gomez asked, wanting so badly to wipe her tear and hold her.

Morticia wiped her tear away. "No one." She looked away. "It's time for the eulogy."

"Morticia-"

 _"Go."_

"Morticia, I just want to-"

Morticia pointed to the hoard of people sitting in front of the coffin.

Defeated and for the first time in his life, put in his place, he walked over to the hoard of people and sat down... directly across the area from Morticia.

All through the eulogy, they stared at eachother. Gomez's laugh consumed Morticia, and he laughed whenever a joke about his cousin was told. Morticia's eyes and her illusive, _Mona Lisa_ smile always grabbed Gomez's attention.

Morticia had to clear her head. After the eulogy, she walked to the stone couch in the graveyard and sat there. It was there, away from all of those at the party, that she cried. She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief and looked around at her silent company.

She then felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. She looked up. "What did I say?"

Gomez shook his head. "I know. You said to stay away and Morticia, I wanted to listen to you. It would be easier in the both of us. But then, I saw you cry, and I couldn't help myself." He gestured to the couch. "May I?" He asked.

"I suppose." Morticia dabbed her eyes. "Basic male instinct. Oh, what a struggle it would be to resist a woman in distress."

"No. It's that I care about you. And that you're beautiful when you cry. Your lower lip quivers, and I find it enchanting." He explained.

"I've never been told my crying was beautiful before... what an interesting line." She replied.

"Morticia, I was awful back there. I was not thinking about your sister's feelings and for that I am truly sorry."

"Alright." Morticia sat up and nodded.

"However, I am not sorry for feeling the way I do about you. Morticia... can I call you Tish?"

"Everything is falling to peices as it is." Morticia sighed. She had to give up the facade. She wanted him... she loved him. She loved the way he looked at her. And she was told to flatter the man. So, was it all that bad to let him call her the most beautiful nickname that she's ever been called? Yes, it was. But, she had to. "Of course."

"Tish... you don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable with it. But I only wanted to know who hurt you because I could tell you were hurt."

"Who told you, then?" Morticia asked, relaxing a bit more.

"Nobody. I can just read you rather well."

"I've been told my face doesn't usually give away my emotions."

"That's true. But there's something about you." Gomez held her hand. "Morticia, will you start over with me? I don't want you, I need you. You're all I think about... and this doesn't ever happen. But let me tell you, that even if I can not be with you -which _will_ kill me-, I won't go back to my old ways. I won't try to explain it, but you've made me realize that I could have love and passion. However, I can only have it with you, Tish."

Morticia looked into his eyes, and her heart was practically beating out of her chest. "You're charming, Gomez."

Gomez laughed.

Morticia put a hand on his cheek. She sighed and sat closer to him. "I don't know what we're going to do. But yes. Yes, we can start over."

"Does that mean you'll open up to me?" Gomez asked and caressed her cheek.

Morticia shook her head. "Just because I'm falling for you doesn't mean I have no parachute." She released herself from his gentle grasp. "No. No, not a chance."

"Fair enough." Gomez stood up and extended his hand. "How about I take your for a personal tour of the Addams estate?"

He showed her everything, even more than what he had before, they talked and laughed and bonded. And now, he wanted to show her something else. "May I show you something?" He asked.

"Yes." Morticia obliged and walked with him to the grand hall.

It was empty and thick, long black drapes were drawn over the wall-windows. There was a record palyer and a bar in the corner.

"Tish, may I get you a drink?" He asked.

"You may." Morticia agreed. She didn't know where her blind trust in this man was coming from.

She sat at the bar and he got her a tall glass of red wine. He then pured himself the same drink and sat next to her.

"Morticia, I have a question."

"Yes?" Morticia asked and sipped her red wine.

"How _did_ you train Kitty Cat?"

Meanwhile, Esmeralda was sitting at a black umbrella table, across from Mr. and Mrs. Addams. They had been talking up a storm about plans for the wedding.

"My, this rain is coming down quite hard, isn't it?" Rosemary asked.

"Oh yes." Esmeralda agreed. "Now, where were we? Oh, yes. I can supply all of the food, and the Catholic preist."

"We aren't Catholic." Alistair stated.

"Neither are we. Well, me, Morticia and my... unfortunately deceased husband, we aren't Catholic. My older daughter, I think she is."

"Uh-huh." Rosemary nodded.

"I could, just as easily hire a judge or a minister." Esmeralda hastily added.

"Don't worry, our cousin, Itt could do it for free." Alistair replied.

"Oh, perfect. I'll supply the wedding dresses as well." Esmeralda offered.

"Well, don't worry about it if you can't, dear." Rosemary put a warm hand on Esmeralda's. "We just want to know what Ophelia's like. We want to make sure she won't murder our son."

"Oh, of course. She won't. She... I'm almost certain that she thinks it's sinning."

Alistair and Rosemary shared a worried expression.

"But, Ophelia's a wonderful girl. Oh, and she just adores your son. She thinks he's the most attractive man she's ever met."

"Well, that's... wonderful." Alistair nodded, as if trying to convince himself that this was all going to work out perfectly. And that everything would be alright in the end. His father always said, _happy wife, happy life_. And this was the wife's idea... and now it was their decision. He just didn't know if he wanted Ophelia's name on a tombstone with his son's.


	5. Heat of the Moment

Morticia had no idea she would ponder pouring her heart out to this man after just four drinks. She was intoxicated, for a one hundred thrity pound woman.

But, so was he, for a six foot two, muscular man.

"My father died when I was sixteen." She said, breaking a silence that had lasted about a minute.

"I... I see." He wanted to tell her he understood, and that his brother left when he was sixteen. "I'm sorry."

"That... his death, it... it took a heavy tole on my mother. She became depressed, her hair turned grey... how old do you think my mother looks?"

Gomez hesitated. "I don't-"

"It's alright, I won't be offended."

"Fifty five." He decided.

"She's fourty." Morticia said.

"I see." Was all Gomez could say.

"She really let herself go. God, she and my father were such a beautiful couple." She remembered. "My father was my only friend. He adopted Kitty six months before his death. I watched him die." She cried. "It really... my mother... she just got so depressed."

Gomez held her and took her over by an old couch in the corner of the room. He sat with her, still holding her. "What about you?" He asked and stroked her hair.

Morticia couldn't believe how long she had been holding everything in. "I took a job after his death... I was a nanny for two days then I was a cocktail waitress for two years. I think I helped my mother through a lot of her greif, as much as I could anyway."

"No, I mean who helped you?" He asked.

"Nobody. I didn't need any help, I needed to step up and be there for my family."

"His death took a tole on you, didn't it?" He asked and rubbed her back.

"Yes." She stopped crying. "I suppose it did."

"Cry." Gomez said.

"Gomez, I appreciate that you find me pretty when I cry, but-"

"No, you have to. Morticia, I refuse to let you suffer through your life holding the waters back, for fear of causing a flood over eveyone's lives. I understand. Here." Gomez adjusted their position so that she was laid on the couch, in his lap, and he was holding her up against the couch's leg. "Morticia, just let it out. I'll listen to you and I won't hurt you. This conversation _will not_ leave this room."

Morticia inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Swear on your life, that this conversation never leaves this room."

"I swear on my life." Gomez promised.

"Well, first it was Ophelia. When I was five... she locked me in the closet for the entire week my father was on his Mortician's United business trip. My mother was busy that whole week, and the nanny didn't notice I was gone. It gave me a fear of tightly enclosed spaces. My father made her appologize when he came back. But what hurt was the incident when I was fifteen. She had turned sixteen and gotten a black Mercedes. She complained because it was a 1965 instead of a 1970. Well, I sided with my father, who bought it for her. I asked her why for my entire life, she acted like she hated me. She was the one I told everything to, even though she acted like that. She told me that it was bacause she did. Later that week, I found out, she was the one who told the whole school that I killed the family dog."

"Oh, Tish..." He moved the hair out of her face.

"I didn't, I love animals... except puppies but I wouldn't murder them in cold blood. I lost my father, he was my best friend. My mother and I were always similar, but never extremely close. I was invited to prom and was so excited because the boy who invited me said he loved me, that he couldn't live wothout me, begged me to let him take me to prom. When we kissed, I drew blood when I bit his lip and he didn't mind. I told him all of my secrets that night. I revealed everything I never wanted anyone to know. We attended prom, and I was ambushed by seven girls who tore my dress and threw me onto the stage infront of the entire crowd. Then, I got the cake dumped on my head. So, I got into voodoo and gave every single person at the prom severe stomach viruses. And then I showed off my voodoo skills at the talent show. I never talked to anyone, I just kept everything in." She paused and cried into Gomez's shirt. "But all that I could have taken. Above everything, I miss my father."

Gomez rubbed her back. "Alright... there you go, Tish. Let it all out, alright?"

After a while, Morticia was okay. "What about you? What happened to you?"

"How do you know anything happened to me?" Gomez asked.

"I just can read you rather well." She said, throwing his words back at him.

Gomez sighed. "I was a cad... and my brother had some trouble picking up women. Well, I invited the Amour twins from school. Siamese twins. And I wooed them both, out of foolish pride. That night, my brother and I had a knock-down, drag-out fight. The next morning, he was gone. Nobody's ever heard from him since."

"Oh, Gomez. That's awful." Morticia looked at him, seriously. "I trust you now."

"I've earned the lady's trust!" Gomez exclaimed happily. "How?"

"I was wrong about you. I thought you used women and you didn't care about anyone else. Obviously, you've changed. Simply put, I trust you now. Enough to keep this conversation private."

"What converstion? We had no conversation."

Morticia smiled, and chuckled, slightly. "Damn straight."

Gomez laughed. "Do you trust me enough to dance with me?" He asked.

"Do you trust me enough to dance with _me_?" Morticia asked. "After all, I think I can dance fairly well."

"Is that a challenge?" Gomez asked.

"Oh, of course not, dear. It's a warning."

Then, tango music began to play on the record player, with some assistance form Thing.

"Thank you, Thing!" Gomez gave him a thumbs up.

The sevard hand gave an okay sign.

"Who's that?" Morticia asked.

"Thing. We've been friends for eight years. Isn't that right, old boy?" He asked him.

Thing gave another thumbs up and waved to Morticia.

"Hello, Thing. It's been a pleasure." Morticia flashed that _Mona Lisa_ smile again.

Gomez then winked at Thing, and he took off.

Morticia moved so Gomez could stand. He extended his hand, and Morticia took it.

They then began to dance, and it wa the most arousing thing Morticia had ever done. She allowed Gomez to kiss her up her arm. Their bodies moved together in perfect unison. She did so enjoy the rose in his mith, and the part when she wrapped her leg around his neck. He held her there, and she felt safe for the first time in her life.

At the end of the dance, Gomez took the rose out of his mouth, dipped Morticia and French kissed her. The kiss started off passionate, yet delicate. But Gomez then grabbed her breast, and sensually moved his hands up and down her body.

Morticia then broke the moment. "Gomez... we can't do this."

"You're right, darling. We can't do this..."

Morticia straightened up and Gomez lifted her, bridal style. "Not here."

As he carried her out of the grand hall, neither one noticed Ophelia watching from behind the door, a jealous fire burning in her eyes.

Gomez took her up to the unused master bedroom. It's walls were so dark purple, they were almost black. The floor was mahogany and there was a California King bed with black, silk and satin bedsheets.

He then took her ofer to the bed and laid her down. He hovered over her. "Morticia... ever since the moment I laid eyes on you, I wanted to be your's forever, and I wanted you to be mine. I will live and die for your satisfaction and blissful unhappiness. I worship you, I adore you, I will do anything for you. Ask for the world in a neatly wrapped package and Morticia, I will make it my life's mission to get it for you. I would kill for you, I would die for you... but if you don't want to do this, we won't."

"Gomez..." Morticia reached her hand up and ran her fingers through his hair. Ophelia had mentioned to Morticia on more than one occasion that she wanted not for love, that if she wanted a man she could have him in a pinch. She had said that all she cared about was the money and power, that she didn't love any one of her toys, and she never would. So, Morticia could just trade places with Ophelia, and ask both she and her mother to live with her. Was it wrong? Maybe. But so was marrying soley for money. "I never thought I would find someone I loved more than anyone or anything in the entire universe, tonight... but I did. And now that I've found you, the last thing I wanna do is let you go."

"Is that a yes, cara mia?" The name just popped out, but judging by Morticia's reaction, it was a keeper.

Morticia kissed him, hard... it drew blood. "Yes." She licked his lip, where the blood was coming out.

Without another word, Gomez kissed her back. He removed his jacket, his undershirt, his socks, his shoes...

Morticia removed her earrings and laid them on the dresser. She then slowly, and strategically, so as to tease her new lover, removed her dress.

Gomez took a moment to admire Morticia's beautiful body. He kissed her down her body until he got to her feet. He removed her shoes and tights.

He kissed her up to her cleavage, and her neck. As he moved, he fisted her raven hair in his hand. Easily, he slipped off the remainder of both of their clothing.

Ophelia was in the room that shared a wall with the master bedroom. That room was not a bedroom, it was a storage room. She knew it, but she had to know for herself. She stayed there, in the dark, attic-like room for what had to be an hour. Minute by minute, she grew colder and more enraged. How dare her sister! How dare she slip into Ophelia's role so callously! Did she love him? No, of course not. Did she want him, more than the hundred other men she's been with? Oh God, yes. A million times yes. She wanted to be the wealthy Mrs. Addams, and now that little bitch stole it away from her.

In the opposite room, Morticia and Gomez had now been going at it for three hours. Things got more heated, and Morticia felt that it was the best thing she had ever done.

"Cara mia..." Gomez moaned as he kissed her neck.

Morticia loved that name, the way he said it... she returned it with one of her own. "Mon cher..."

What was little more than a whisper, was a scream for Gomez. Those beautiful, French words were the match that started the forest fire. He then began to kiss her even more passionatley, up her arms, down her back.

Morticia would remember this control she had over him forever. She never was going to control him for anything but pleasure. And that was something she hoped she could look foward to, every day, for the rest of her life. "Prenez-moi, mon ectase."

Gomez moaned as she ran her fingers through his hair, and presed against him, needing to somehow get even closer to him.

Ophelia gasped. She didn't know that her sister could... she didn't know she could do that. Morticia had never been open before, to anyone, she was a stone cold virgin. Well, at least, she used to be. But the jealousy burning in Ophelia's soul was an intense blaze.

After another ten minutes, Ophelia walked out of the room, to plan her next move.

Morticia collapsed next to Gomez in the black sheets, and he held her.

She traced the French names she had called him on his chest. "Gomez, there's something I have to tell you."

"Yes?" Gomez asked her.

"I'm not part of the vanilla general public."

Gomez wasn't suprised at all. He could tell from the moment he met her. "Oh, Tish... me neither."

Morticia smiled and scrated his chest, his blood matching the color of her nail polish. She found his tie on the nightstand, and took a few other articles of clothing form around the room. And then she tied him up.

Gomez and his love spent another four hours, showing off their skills in the forbidden art.

When it was all over, Morticia sat up in bed, holding up the sheets to her body.

"Morticia..." Gomez spoke, and reached over to the nightstand. He grabbed a small wooden box off of it. He sat up and faced her. "Ever since I met you, I looked at and thought about no one else. You're not only the most enchanting woman I have ever met, you are strong, and wonderful, and exciting. I want nobody else for the rest of eternity to share endless nights and beautiful days with."

"Gomez... what are you asking of me?" Morticia asked.

Gomez opened the box. In it, was a beautiful black diamond and ruby ring. "It was my mother's engagement ring. It's a tradition of the Addams women to pass their engagement rings down to their son's, to present to their fiancés."

"It's breathtaking. But, Gomez-"

"Please, Tish..." Gomez kissed her. "Marry me."

Morticia didn't know what to say. She wanted to, how badly she wanted to. But she couldn't... could she? "Oh, Gomez... how?"

"Darling, I will find a way. I wil go to heaven and back to find a way. Mi amore de mi vida, I need you."

"If we can pull this off, then I will marry you. Yes, yes, of course!" Morticia sat in his lap and allowed him to slip the ring on her finger, a perfect fit.

And in the morning, Morticia was the first to awaken. She had been heavily intoxicated that night. She hadn't even fully realized what she'd done. Looking around the room, she noticed clothes scattered about, dried blood on three articles of clothing, a whip in the corner of the room, an engagement ring on her finger... and Gomez, lying next to her.

Gomez then awoke, and when he sat up, Morticia saw the dried blood on his chest, as well as her initials, engraved in his arm.

"Gomez... what did we do?" Morticia asked him.

Gomez held her hand with his arm that was around her shoulder. "Oh, Tish... my father is going to kill me."

"My sister's going to behead me."

"I would never let anything like that happen."

"You'd be dead."

Afraid, Morticia asked again. "What did we do?"

Gomez rubbed her sore shoulder with his free hand. "Querida... we got engaged."


	6. Pretty Hurts

Ophelia was livid. After everything, after everything that she had gone through and done... the rich man she so desperately desired wanted another. That, after a while, she could live with. But the fact that it was her very own younger _sister_? She knew Morticia was attractive, that's why she put her down so much. She knew men desired her... after what she had heard, she knew she was good at sex.

Damn it... when Opehlia heard the cracking of that whip and cries of passion... she didn't know what to think. She didn't think her sister had it in her, to be so... to be so, dominating. She hated it with a burning passion. How _dare_ she take everything that Ophelia wanted? She knew deep down she could have any other rich man, married or not. But she didn't want any other rich man. She wanted Gomez Addams.

Ophelia learned from a very young age what being the most attractive, long legged, blonde meant. It meant that she needed to act like it. Brains weren't as important as beauty. Men desired beauty, and passion and sex. It was the only thing they wanted. And if you weren't alright with that, then you were a loser. Well, she wasn't going to end up like her friendless sister. Ophelia had participated in hard core beauty pagents ever since age five. It was what she wanted. She thought it was fun until she lost one. She lost it because her teeth weren't straight enough. At seven, she wouldn't talk to anyone in the family for nearly a year until they got her oral surgery to fix her teeth. She never lost another pagent.

She was always vain, and proud of the way she looked and the way she carried herself... when everything looked perfect. By age thirteen, she was one of the prettiest, most popular girls in town. She also earned the title of the school slut. The men loved it, though. She finally met someone when she was fifteen. She loved him. Rich Hattington... he wasn't the wealthiest, although he had good money. He had a job, he loved her. He made her feel wanted, desired, looked at her with passion in his eyes. Every time, they couldn't make love, he missed her. So, she did it as much as possible. Her best friend, or follower, Anastasia was not at school for a week that January. She then came to school and was caught making out with Rich in the janitor's closet, by Ophelia. Heartbroken, Ophelia soon realized why she missed school. She was pregnant with Rich's baby. She realized then that Rich wanted sex and that was it. And that was because he was a man. She was a woman, and she was only here for one thing, to be beautiful, and to be noticed.

So yes, Ophelia was angry. She was angry that her sister had stabbed her in the heart. She was angry that Gomez twisted the knife. She wanted him, still. And she would have him. It didn't matter who she had to take out to do it. It didn't matter at all, because she would be the wealthy Mrs. Addams. And as an extra bonus, she might just be an only child.


	7. Under Your Spell

Morticia was taking a nice, scolding hot bath in the jacuzzi tub, in the master bedroom's private bathroom.

Having discussed this with his querida, Gomez decided to go and see Ophelia. He wanted to explain everything once Morticia exited the bathroom.

Gomez was fully dressed for the day, and knocked on the guestroom's bedroom door. "Ophelia? Are you in there?"

"It's open." Ophelia replied, in a seductive manner.

"Ophelia, look," Gomez walked into the room and found Ophelia, naked, her body draped across the bed. "What the hell is this?" Gomez asked.

"Gomez, I know what you did." Ophelia smiled. "I forgive you."

"Forgive me? For what? Ophelia, you have the wrong idea." Gomez told her. "I'm not in love with you."

Ophelia stood and walked over to him. She played with his tie. "Mortica isn't the only one who's done quite a bit of... reading up on you, darling, so have I. You never cared about love. Neither do I. You want a good time. I want money." She stopped and looked up at him. "I think you know what I'm trying to say."

"Ophelia," Gomez stepped back. "When I met your sister, I changed. I'm not like that anymore. You're a wonderful girl, Ophelia, but I will not marry you. I can not marry you. It goes against everything I live for."

"It didn't yesterday!"

"Well, that was before!"

"Gomez, I'm going to give you an ultimatum. Either marry me, give me what I want and I'll give you what I _know_ you want. Or very, _bad_ things will happen to 'everything you live for'." Her eyes were engulfed in a determined and jealous, lust-filled fire

"Ophelia, everything I live for is your sister. You can't hurt Morticia, she's _your sister_. And Ophelia, I can't do that to you. I have enough respect for you to not make you spend the _rest of your life_ with a man you don't love, for mere money."

"Who said anything about _that_?" Ophelia asked, rhetorically and under her breath. "Are you kidding? Look who's talking, are you forgetting about what you did to Fester?" She asked.

Gomez grew angry. "How do you know about that?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"Did I mention that I heard you seduce Morticia in the grand hall?" She asked, knowing the answer.

"I am not in the habit of disrespecting ladies, Ophelia. But you are no lady." Gomez was appauled.

"Oh what am I, then?" Ophelia asked, smugly.

"You're a slut." Gomez stepped back, away from Ophelia. "Think about what you would be doing to your sister, to _yourself_."

Red hot tears of rage nearly smudged Ophelia's mascara at Gomez's cruel choice of words. But she held them back. "Oh I see, and you aren't?"

"I..." Ashamed, Gomez looked her in the eyes. "changed, Ophelia."

"You changed _last night_! That doesn't count for shit, you slept with another woman and now you are claiming you've _changed_? It's too late for change, Gomez."

"No. It isn't." Gomez said and backed against the door.

"Gomez... I'm warning you. You walk out that door and terrible things will happen to everyone involved in this love triangle."

"Love triangle? What love triangle? There is _no_ love triangle!" Gomez yelled.

Ophelia's eyes glazed over in a dealthy cold stare. "Oh, Gomez." She chuckled, somehwat maniacally. "Dear Gomez... of course there is."

"No, there isn't. I _love_ your sister."

"Do you wanna walk out that door and find out?" Ophelia asked.

Gomez was confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Well, Gomez. I know you're a rather strange man, but I didn't know you'd be so good with handeling Morticia's secret."

"What?" Gomez asked.

"You know Morticia's a witch, right?"

Gomez shouldn't have been suprised, but in a way, he was. "What?" Was all he could say.

"At this very moment, you could be under that love spell Morticia cooked up for a rainy day." Admittedly, Ophelia knew all too well that Morticia would never use witchcraft to make anyone do her bidding, let alone fall in love with her. But, Gomez didn't need to.

"I... goodbye." Gomez then left and walked into the master bedroom. There, he saw Morticia.

She was in her long, black, silk nightgown and was sitting on the edge of the bed, reading an Edgar Allan Poe book she had found on the floor. She looked up. "Darling, how did it go?"

Gomez immidiatley -metaphorically, this time- fell on his knees before her, in her presence. It couldn't all be a spell. But he had to know. "Morticia, may I speak with you?"

Morticia noticed his slightly harsh tone. "Mon cher, is something wrong?" She asked.

"Yes. Maybe, I don't know." Gomez confessed and closed the door behind him. How could he ask her? It wasn't that she was a witch -if indeed she was- that worried him. He would love and acdept her just as much with or without magick. But keeping it from him? That was a different story.

"Morticia, your sister has told me a rather important peice of information."

"What's that?" Morticia asked, a nervous edge to her voice.

"You're a witch." He said.

Morticia slowly put the book down. "Oh. I see."

There was a solid two minutes of silence.

 _"Are you?"_ Gomez asked.

Morticia stood. "Yes!" She admitted.

"Then, why did you keep it from me?"

"Well, for one thing I was intoxicated-"

"I told you about Fester, I never even told my _mother_ the real reason he left!"

"And I told you about Ophelia, and my..." She almost cried. "And my father. But Gomez, I have had my trust betrayed before and I couldn't..."

"I thought you trusted me!"

"I do! But I can't say, 'I love you but by the way, _I have a few interesting and otherwordly capabilities.'_ It makes for a rather odd conversational peice. And anyway, I'm not a witch like you see in _The Wizard of Oz_. I don't have my _own_ magick. Not really."

"Not _really_?"

"I can light candles with my fingertips and I can know a few things about people I've only just met."

"What the-"

"But that's all I can do on my own." She said.

Gomez then remembered her not mentioning the prom incident. "Morticia... was that story about the boy and prom... was that true?"

"Yes." Morticia paused. "Mostly." She corrcted herself.

"Mostly?" Gomez asked.

"Well, the boy did trick me at the prom. He _was_ a traitor. But the story about being ambushed was twisted. I told him I was a witch because we had already been dating for a while and I trusted him. Well he told his friends, who told their friends, and so on. I was already hated at school as it was. Then, five girls ambushed me when we got there, he helped them. They tore my dress and tied me to one of the props from the last school play. And then they recorded me struggling backstage with they lit the prop on fire. The principal came and rescued me, however. Two thirds of the bottom of the dress were burned off." She explained.

He wanted to tell her he was sorry, but he was too upset. "You lied to me."

"I had to, Gomez. Do you know what it's like? Having a dead father, a depressed mother, no friends, and a sister who despises you? A sister who... a sister who forces you to use what you have for..." He voice trailed off and tears ran down her cheeks. "I have been abandoned too many times and I have been betrayed once before. It isn't so much of a secret now as it was then. But I suppose when everyone knows, why should it be? Gomez, I never wanted to lie to you. But I had to know if you were going to... hurt does things to you, Gomez. Pain fades, and it can be beautiful." She looked around the room at the scattered clothes and Gomez's torn shirt, and the dired blood on his lip. She smiled, breifly. "But hurt lasts. Hurt changes you. Hurt gives you serious trust issues."

"I see." Gomez felt terrible. He couldn't help but hurt for her. He also couldn't help but still be upset. "You could have

told me the truth, Morticia."

"I know. And Gomez, I should have. And I promise that from this day foward, I will."

"How am I supposed to believe that?" Gomez asked.

"I'm sorry, but I believe I recall you claiming you changed in a matter of three hours?"

"I..." Gomez sighed. "I did. And I meant every word I said."

Morticia stepped very close to him, and looked him in the eyes. "So do I."

"Morticia, I am truly sorry if you ever felt that you couldn't trust me. I can understand why. But know that you can trust me _now_."

"I know." Morticia wrapped her arms around his neck and he wrapped his around her waist, but moved his hands down to her butt.

"Morticia, I need to know I can trust you. Now please understand that everything I feel for you feels truer, more real than anything I have ever felt. But Ophelia said that you cooked up a love potion, and that you were planning to use it."

Morticia was extremely offended. "I never use potions on people. All magick comes with some sort of a price. It usually does. And darling, give me some credit. I needn't a reason to make you fall in love with me, I find it much more exciting when both parties are willing." She eyed the handcuffs against the wall. "Most of the time." She said, seductively.

"Oh, Tish..." Gomez kissed her, passionatley. "What are we going to do?"

"Well, I'm skipping breakfast. But I know that if you're half the man I think you are, you'll get on your knees and let me punish you for yelling at me." Her voice was sultry and teasing.

"Mi corazón... I am _more_ than willing to do that." Gomez replied and kneeled before her once she sat on the side of the bed. He -making good use of his tounge- kissed her black gothic heel.

Ophelia peered through the small holes in the eyes of Uncle Imar's portrait in the wall. She was pissed.

She stopped looking and paced around the room. "What the _fuck_?" She yelled at herself and the situation. "I can't get Gomez to pay me a decent compliment, she's got him tounge kissing _her footwear_?"

Ophelia got dressed for the day and raced downstairs to eat breakfast. She knew now, _exactaly_ what she had to do.


	8. Her Most Prized Possesion

Ophelia had finished breakfast, changed her clothes and went into the living room to find Esmeralda, Rosemary and Alistair. Part one of her plan was set into action.

She was dressed now, in her finest of semi-formal dresses. It was a silky, pastel blue, high-low dress that was cut in a deep off shoulder neckline. She wore her white, sparkly stilletos with it and her hair was up.

"Oh, hello." Ophelia gracefully walked over to a vacant chair, adjacent to her mother's. "I hope I'm not interuppting anything."

Rosemary smiled. "Not at all, dear. Sit down, make yourself comfortable."

Ophelia sat down, straightening her back as though she were at a business meeting.

"Actually, Ophelia, we were just talking about you." Alistair said.

"Oh, you were?" She eyed her mother suspiciously, then she chuckled, as if she had figured they would be. "All good things, I hope?"

Alistair put his head in his hand, obviously drained, but from what? Ophelia had no idea, and frankly, she didn't care.

"Darling..." Esmeralda spoke. "Mr. and Mrs.-"

Alistair and Rosemary shot her a look.

"I mean, Alistair and Rosemary have some concerns, regarding you and Gomez."

"Oh, no!" Ophelia's voice became slightly more airy. "Is my darling fiancé having second thoughts?"

"No, no, no." Rosemary shook her head. "None that we know of."

Ophelia sighed in fake relief, and took a sip from the tea cup she had taken off of the table. "Oh, good-"

"But I am." Alistair cut her off, before he could stop himself.

Ophelia almost choked on her tea. "I see."

Rosemary hit him on the arm, scolding him.

However, Alistair continued. "Ophelia, do you like this house?"

"Oh..." Ophelia wasn't sure where this was going, but she knew she had to be nice to these people if she even had a _chance_ at getting their money. "Oh, very much. It's very..." She looked around the dusty, old, cobweb infested mansion. "Interesting." She decided that -however much of an understatement it may have been- was the right word.

"Yes, it is." None of this was boosting Alistair's confidence about this marraige. "Alright, I'm just going to cut to the chase. I saw Gomez with your sister, Morticia last night."

Ophelia's eyes widened. "You... did?"

"Yes. And the strangest thing, I didn't see you."

"Oh. Well, you see..." What was she going to say? What, with everyone boring holes into her very soul. She then grew serious. "Oh, _that_. No, Alistair, you _didn't_ see me. I wasn't feeling to well, after the long trip down from Ivorybrooke. I bid dear Gomez goodnight, and Balthazar's corpse." She winked. "And I went up to the guestroom to sleep off my sickness."

Alistair, Esmeralda and Rosemary nodded.

Ophelia continued, praying her story was working. "Well, I _do_ hope my darling little sister was only trying to keep Gomez company."

Alistair looked suspicious still.

"And I can assure you that even if Morticia _were_ infatuated with Gomez, he is very devoted to your's truely." She gestured towards herself, gracefully.

"Ophelia, I'm sure he is. But have you gotten to know Gomez?" Rosemary asked.

"As much as _your sister_ has?" Esmeralda added.

"Oh, quite. I even know about poor Fester and the whole incident. Although, we swore eachother to secrecy, as I confessed some of my secrets as well. It was a magical night. See, I awoke around midnight and found Gomez by my door, unable to sleep, worried about me." She smiled. "He took me to the grand hall, and we sat and talked for a couple of hours. Then he took me up to his room and professed his undying love for me. We've been mentally inseperable ever since." It appeared as though a tear of joy were running down Ophelia's cheek. "You know, I really had my doubts about arranged marraige -I've never been particularly fond of it- but _now_! Oh, I see why it's so very popular in this family."

Alistair was shocked. He couldn't believe his son had really fallen in love with this woman. It appears he fell rather hard. Something was off, but if Ophelia's words were indeed true, who was he to stand in the way of what he had arranged? "Did he give you the engagement ring?" Alistair asked.

Ophelia smiled. "Oh, why... of course he did. And he was very, _very_ clear on how devoted and committed he was to me."

"Alright." Alistair smiled back, as did Rosemary and Esmeralda.

"That's all we need to know, Ophelia. Thank you."

"It was my pleasure, mother." Ophelia replied, sweetly. She then walked back into the kitchen, but not before nearly tripping over her heels, on the creaky mahogany floor.

 _"Gomez!"_ Morticia screamed, from the bathroom. She had gotten dressed in there after a shower.

Gomez, fully dressed and ready for the _second_ time today, burst into the bathroom. "Tish, is everything alright?"

"No, darling, it isn't." Francitcally, Morticia held up her hand... her _bare_ hand.

Gomez was now worried as well. "Your ring."

Morticia nodded. "It's gone."

"Oh, no. Alright, did you take it off in the shower?"

"No, darling, you would know. You were there." Morticia ran a finger through her hair, trying to figure out where she could have left it.

"You're right." Gomez didn't know what to do. "As a matter of fact, Morticia, I don't recall you taking it off at all since I gave it to you."

"I didn't." Morticia was about to have a panic attack. She had never been like this with any object before, but this was different. This was a sign of Gomez's love, devotion, adoration. This was... her most prized possesion. "Gomez, I can't lose that ring. It became my most prized possesion in a matter of hours. It's the most important thing that I own." A few tears ran down her cheek. "Will you help me look for it?"

Gomez embraced her and soothingly rubbed her back. "It's alright, my darling. Of course, I will. We'll find it. _I'll_ find it, even if I have to search the bowels of hell, I'll find it."

They looked for the ring for hours. They searched through the entire house, carfeul to avoid the other members of the family. Every nook and cranny was checked by Thing, whom was very trustworthy and accepting of the complex situation. But it was no use, if _Thing_ couldn't find it... it was truly missing."

Deafeated and heartbroken, Morticia elegantly flopped onto the bed, and cried, silently. "I don't want you to be upset with me, Gomez. I am a very organized person, I kept track of it since you gave it to me."

Gomez was equally exhausted, he was sitting on the armchair in the corner of the room. "Oh, Tish... I could never be truly upset with you, especially not over something like this. You know I worship the ground you walk on, amore."

Those words reverberated off the walls of Morticia's head. _I worship the ground you walk on, amore._ Those words, to Morticia, were not just words. They were much more. Gomez said them with feeling, with passion. It wasn't the words, themselves that had meaning. It was the person behind the words that gave them meaning. And both the words and the person behind them meant a hell of a lot to Morticia. "Gomez, I was wrong." Morticia said.

Gomez raised an eyebrow, stood and walked over to the bed. He sat on the edge of it, and used his hand to wipe away the remainder of his beloved's tears. "About what, Querida?"

Morticia sat up and Gomez held her. "Your love for me. _That_ , mon cher, is and _will always be_ , my most prized possesion."

Gomez gently pushed a strand of hair out of her face and kissed her, full of intense passion. "Cara mia..." He moaned in her mouth.

Morticia loved that already, now at eighteen years old, she knew who she wanted for the rest of her life. She kissed him back, full of the same amount of passion and macbre love. "Mmm... mon cher..."


	9. Hurt and Pain

Gomez had lied and told his parents Morticia wasn't feeling well, and that he was going to bring her her dinner in her guestroom. Little did they know that Morticia hadn't been in her guestroom at all since they arrived.

He began to walk with the tray of boiled sheep eye soup, a small amount of entrails and moose milk up to the master bedroom where they were staying, but Alistair stood in his path.

"Oh, hello, father." Gomez smiled.

"Son." Alistair greeted him. He sighed. "We had a good talk with Ophelia today."

Gomez gulped. "You did?"

"Yes. She told us everything."

Gomez was worried. "She did?

"Yes. She made it perfectly clear about just _where_ your commitment lies."

Gomez couldn't beleive what he was hearing. Ophelia had _actually_ come around. "Wonderful."

"Are you quite sure you want to marry her?"

This just kept getting better and better. He now had his father's _blessing_? All he had to do was say the word? "Yes, father. I've never loved anyone more."

"Alright." Alistair began to walk away. "Rest in peace, son."

"Rest in peace, father." Gomez smiled. "Thank you."

Meanwhile, Ophelia burst into the master bedroom.

Morticia was gracefully lying in bed, obviously comfortable amongst the elegant pillows and satin sheets. She looked up. "Ophelia." She greeted her.

"Don't _Ophelia_ me! How _dare_ you do this to me?" She slammed the door behind her and stomped over to the bed. "You took everything away from me, you little bitch! _Everything_!" She yelled.

"Ophelia, I don't know what to tell you. It isn't like I _planned_ this."

"Oh, _bullshit_." Ophelia rolled her eyes. "You wanted to turn him against me, didn't you? With that story about how I locked you in the closet when we were kids?"

"You _did_ lock me in the closet."

Ophelia ignored her. "Or about how I spread the rumor about you _killing_ our dog? I only said that because you _did_ kill our dog!"

"I did no such thing."

Ophelia was pissed. "What do you mean? Dogs can't _drink_ cyanide, Morticia!"

Morticia had no idea. "Well, how did you expect me to know that? _You_ wanted a dog."

"And then you murdered it."

"Well, in that case, it was an accident." Morticia replied.

It sickened Ophelia that she couldn't get a rise out of Morticia. "Do you always have to be so poised and calm _all of the time_? Get _angry_ , for once, goddamit!"

"Why are you in here? So you can yell at me about accidental dog murder? No, you're not. So why are you?" Morticia asked.

"Because I'm going to make you pay for what you did to me!"

Morticia stood infront of her sister. "Ophelia, you aren't going to do anything like that."

"Wanna bet? Morticia, if you don't do what I ask of you in the next ten minutes, I will unleash _hell_ unlike any you have ever seen."

"Bring it, Ophelia." Morticia smiled.

"Ok, I will. You break everything off with Gomez, or I will tell the police that he killed Balthazar. I am very good at manipulating, even if Gomez isn't a suspect."

"How do you know he isn't?"

"He never said he was. And knowing him, he'd _brag_ about it." God, Ophelia was seething. "Now, who are they going to believe? A scared girl in the prime of her life, or the youngest town pimp in history?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Morticia, you don't know what I dare."

Morticia was heartbroken that her sister was actually doing this. "Fine." She replied.

Gomez then walked up to the bedroom and happily walked though the door. "Tish, I have marvelous news-" He paused when he saw Ophelia in the room. "What is going on?"

"Morticia and I were just talking. Weren't we, _Tish_?" Ophelia asked her sister.

"We were." Morticia feighned a smile. She then stared into Gomez's soul, non-verbally explaining what she had to do.

Gomez nodded, and Morticia hoped he understood. "I see."

Morticia turned to Gomez. "Gomez... I love you. But _this whole thing is a lie._ " She emhasized the sentence, and he now understood what she meant.

Gomez played along. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Ophelia is right. We can not live our lives sneaking around. I want a family, kids. I don't want to hurt Ophelia. She has been nothing but good to me over the years. Yes, we had a few minor spats here and there, which I blew _way_ out of proportion. But I love her, she is my older sister. She is all I have left. And I would lose my connection with her by being with you."

Gomez looked broken. "Morticia, you know I can't live without you."

"I know, Gomez, but you have to try. I can't be in your life like this, I'm sorry." She looked away, then at Ophelia. Ophelia mouthed, _look him in the eyes_ and Morticia did so. "But, it's over."

Morticia cried and walked out, leaving him alone with Ophelia.

Ophelia then kissed him, roughly. "I heard you like to play rough, Gomez. I can do that, ya know. I am not nearly as vanilla as you think I am."

"Ophelia..." Gomez pushed away. "No."

"But, Morticia _dumped_ you."

"That won't make me love _you_." Gomez said.

Ophelia grew very serious... and very cold. "I see. Well, then you won't mind if I tell you straight out that I didn't buy that break up. I didn't buy it at all." She turned around. "I'm holding up my end of my offer to you, because you didn't take your's."

She walked out and into the library.

There, she found Morticia, reading Edgar Allan Poe. She had her hair pinned up with a strand hanging down, and she was crying. Her clear, wet tears were falling like the rain outside onto the pages.

Ophelia slammed the door and walked up to her sister. "You _bitch_."

Morticia used a black hankercheif and wiped her eyes until they were dry, without her makeup getting ruined. She stood. "You're a cold, cruel woman, Ophelia." Morticia gave a small, bitter smile. "We could have been so close."

"Morticia, you need to shut the hell up and sit your ass back down."

Morticia raised an eyebrow. "And what if I don't? I have no obligation to listen to you. I did what you asked, it isn't my fault he rejected you."

"Cut the crap. Gigs up. I didn't buy any of that garbage. Gomez wouldn't give you up without a fight. And you wouldn't give him up either."

Morticia sighed. "Ophelia, there was nothing to buy. Not everything is as fake as you are." Morticia spat out.

Ophelia, hurt, slapped her as hard as she could, drawing blood. "Who do you think you are _talking to_?"

It took Morticia a minute to realize what had just happened. "I _think_ , Ophelia, that I am talking to my sister."

"You're wrong." Ophelia said coldly and hit her again, causing her to stumble backward. "You aren't worthy of even being called my sister, you miserable little wretch! You homewrecker! You slut!"

Morticia stood up again. She chuckled. " _I'm_ the slut? Really? Gomez was my first, your first was a man you knew for two minutes at a party, you were stoned and you were _thirteen_! Yes, Ophelia. _I'm_ the slut."

"You think you're _something_ , don't you?" Ophelia laughed. "At least I _got_ action! You think you're too good for anyone!"

"Oh, so _you're_ just as good as some _pimp_ you met on the street?" Morticia asked.

"You _know_ that isn't what I meant."

"It's about what you _said_."

"I think you're looking to die tonight!"

"I think you're bluffing. I was wrong about you, Ophelia. I didn't know you were that evil, but _oh_ , are you ever. One thing you are and always will be is a _coward_. You hide behind sex, money and power. You can't erase what you've done to Gomez or anyone else on this family. And you sure as _hell_ can't erase what you've done to me."

"You. Little. _Shit!_ " Ophelia punched her, and Morticia was knocked to the ground.

"Stop!" She yelled.

"Not in a million years."

Morticia stood again and threw a punch, and Ophelia bled.

"I will never, ever stop trying to end _you_. You have to suffer for this." She slapped her.

"You never were planning to give mother or I any of the money. Were you?"

Ophelia punched her, but Morticia still stood.

 _"Were you?"_

Ophelia kicked her in the stomach and a fight broke out. "Shut up!" Ophelia yelled.

They knocked eachother to the ground. Then, Morticia uttered the wrong words. "Make me."

Ophelia crawled over to Morticia, who was sitting up, and put her hands around her neck. She began to strangle her, and Morticia was sturggling.

"Why won't you just _die_?" Ophelia was crying now.

Morticia kicked her in the stomach, and Ophelia was knocked back.

 _"You-"_

Morticia got up and used the coffee table for support.

Ophelia then came up behind her and grabbed her by the waist.

Morticia struggled but Ophelia wouldn't let her go. She was squeezing tighter and tighter, Morticia couldn't breath. "Get off of me, Ophelia!" The intended scream was more like a peep.

"Not until I erase you and all you've done." Ophelia spat. "You are just like him! You are just like _father!_ And all father wanted was for you to be happy, and loved and he didn't give one iota about money or the _important_ things in life."

Tears of rage burned Morticia's eyes as she struggled. She kicked and peeped because she couldn't scream. But Ophelia's determination willed her on.

This went on for some time, and if Morticia could have gotten any whiter, she would have. Her ribs were on the verge of getting damaged to the point of hospitalization.

Gomez was upstairs in the guestroom. He felt his world stop, and his heart hurt, his head was splitting. Quickly, instinctively, he burst into the library. There, he found Morticia getting the life squeezed out of her.

"What the hell is going on in here?" He yelled.

Morticia looked over at him, still struggling.

"Go away, Gomez!" Ophelia yelled and squeezed harder.

"Let her go!" Gomez bust into action and grabbed Ophelia from behind. He was ten times stronger than she was, he was built and eight inches taller than she was. He pried her off of Morticia and they fell backwards.

Morticia fell to the ground, and Ophelia lunged at her.

But Gomez grabbed her and held her back. He then looked her in the eyes, a secure grip on her, and spoke. "Ophelia, do not, _ever_ pull something like that again. Do you understand?"

Ophelia was crying, but only tears of burning anger at the fact that Morticia was still breathing. "Get off me!" She yelled.

"No. Not until I know that you will _never_ try to do that again."

"If you don't get off me right now, Gomez, I'm going to tell mother that you forced me to sleep with you before the wedding night. She wants me to at least pretend I'm pure. I'm going to tell her that -since we all know you're ten times stronger than I am- you forced yourself on top of me and wouldn't let me go. And that I fought, and that..." Ophelia looked at the mirror she and Morticia had cracked whilst fighting. " _You_ gave me this cut lip and this black eye... amongst other forms of physical damage."

Gomez was almost speechless. This woman was physcotic, and not in a good way. "My parents would never believe that."

"You overestimate your parents trust of you, Gomez. Especially after driving Fester off. Oh yes, we both know he left because of the twins? Ya know who doesn't? Rosemary. But she will, if you don't let me go right now!"

Gomez picked her up and forced her out of the library. "Then go. You don't _ever_ try to kill your sister again."

"You could have hit me."

Gomez shook his head. "You don't know how badly I wanted to."

Ophelia turned and ran to her bedrom, careful not to show her eye and ripped dress.

Gomez locked the library doors and ran over to Morticia. He held her upright and kissed her.

Her eyes opened and she grabbed him, kissing him back. "I'm alright, darling." She said, breathlessly.

"Cara mia..." He looked at her. "No, you're not. And Morticia," he lightly touched her bruised bottom lip and her red eye. Her nightgown was ripped, and a couple strands of Morticia's thick hair were ripped out. But that wasn't the worst of it. "Tish, I have to get you into bed."

"Gomez, darling, I think I might be a bit sore for that." She laughed.

Gomez smiled, greatful he got there before Ophelia could kill her or break her ribs. He pushed some hair out of her face. "I know you are, my darling. You need rest, and I need to make sure that we can manage everything without having to conduct a sting opporation if you need a doctor."

Morticia silently chuckled. "Thank you for saving me, mon cher."

Gomez gently picked her up, bridal style and she tightly held onto him. "No, darling, thank you for saving _me_."

"But what have I done besides make your life more complicated?"

"Morticia, you know perfectly well that my life was worthless before you came into it. I'd be nothing without you." He kissed her.

Morticia closed her eyes, only feeling truly safe in his arms. She then burried her head in his neck and pressed herself closer to him, getting comfortable after the incredible fight that had just happened. "Oh, darling... I love you."

Gomez sighed, happily. "I love you too, my dearest."

He then carried her into their bedroom, which is what the couple now called it. Morticia liked it so much that Gomez promised her when they married, this would be their bedroom. Morticia held onto that promise.

Gomez situated her in the bed, so she would be as comfortable as possible. "Now, darling, I'm going to have to check and make sure she didn't severely damage anything."

Morticia, exhausted, sighed. It hurt. She closed her eyes. "Gomez, you don't have to tell me everything you're going to do." She lifted a shaky hand and stroked his cheek. "I trust you."

Gomez kissed her hand and carefully laid it on her stomach. He then delicatley removed her long, black nightgown which was now ripped and torn in various places. It was basically ruined. Gomez shook his head. "Tish, when we marry, I'm going to buy you a closetfull of the finest black nightgowns one could wear, fit fot a mortician's daughter."

Morticia chuckled, that was painful as well. "I am a mortician's daughter."

Gomez nodded, intrigued. "Your father?"

"Yes." Morticia loved reminiscing about her father.

"Tell me, when did he come up with your beautiful name?" Gomez asked.

"My mother had wanted to name me Andora, after her mother. But after some talking, they decided it would be my middle name."

Gomez studied her glorious form, even if she was beaten up. "You're breathtaking."

"Kiss me."

Gomez oblidged.

"Mmm..." Morticia couldn't get enough of the taste of his lips. "So are you."

Gomez lightly pressed her ribs. "You're going to have to tell me if this hurts."

"Gomez, I believe I've said there's a difference between hurt and pain. Hurt is emotional, deep, something you feel. Pain is actually quite pleasant most of the time." She paused and winced in pain. "This hurts."

Gomez had remembered her saying something to that affect. But he really never heard anything quite like that before. But he understood her words better than anyone else. He thought they were words to live by, and he had a feeling he'd be learning to words to live by every once in a while until he himself was no longer living.

"I'm sorry, my darling." Gomez felt around some more and it was confirmed that nothing was broken, which was a great relief to Gomez. He had to put some rubbing alcohol on her cuts, and he bandaged them up. He then lied next to her, sitting up, and pressed a cold pack to her eye. "We have to do this four times every day for the next two days, alright?"

Morticia was still just in panties and a bra, but she was too sore to move. "Alright."

"Tish, it's freezing. I know you're sore, but I-" He then got an idea. "Press this to your eye, I'll be right there." Gomez then walked out of the bedrrom. Five minutes later, he came back. He had gone into the laundry room and retrieved a comfortable looking, soft, black robe that had just finished drying. "Here you are, my dearest." He gently sat her up and tied the robe around her. He realized then how absolutely sexy she looked in his robe. "Well, it _was_ mine. But I must say, it looks extremely sexy on you. I can buy another."

He then got into his black pajama bottoms and crawled into bed next to her, gently pressing the cold pack to her eye.

Morticia curled up next to him, wrapping his willing arm around her. The heat of his body was much more inviting and warm than even the robe. She traced her long nails on his muscular chest and Gomez kissed her head, holding her tightly, but carefully.

"Gomez, you're the only man I'd ever let take care of me the way you did tonight." Morticia said.

"I figured as much." Gomez replied.

"Thank you, mon cher..." Morticia yawned, silently.

Gomez kissed her hand. He was about to say something but he noticed Morticia, sleeping, peacfully against him. And she was flashing that illusive, half-smile, showing none of her perfect, pearl white teeth... Gomez knew all well that that smile was mainly reserved for him. He adored both it, and her.

Ophelia was pressing a cold pack to her black eye, and sitting in bed in her white, lacey nightgown. She had treated her wounds, and in the morning would use her makeup skills to cover up her eye. She thought she knew what she had to do, but she had been foolish. It was going to be much harder to get rid of Morticia than she had initially planned. But, maybe she didn't have to kill her to do it.


	10. A Midnight in Winter

It had been three days since the fight, and Ophelia had -unbeknownced to Gomez and Morticia- convinced Máma that she just _had_ to go back to Ivorybrooke and pick up a few makeup essentials and an extra dress, as did Morticia, apparently. The trio was to leave for three days to gather up anything they needed and update some friends and family on the fabulous news of the wedding.

Ophelia got dressed in a long sleeved, low-cut, pastel pink dress. It was extremely cold outside this morning. Her black eye was almost healed now, and she almost needed to stop using a quarter of a bottle of foundation and concealer, and going through a half a bag of makeup wipes, everytime she covered it up.

She raced downstairs to meet her mother at the door.

Esmeralda had Kitty Cat on a leash, and he wasn't holding still for her at all. _"Morticia!"_ She called for her youngest.

"You should've put that cat down two years ago." Ophelia scoffed.

Esmeralda hit Ophelia's arm, silently scolding her. _"Morticia!"_ She called again. _"The natives are getting wrestless!"_

 _"Coming, mother!"_ Morticia called from the master bedroom. She then turned to Gomez. "Darling, how are we going to get all of this cleaned up?" She asked. "And what about the library?"

"Don't worry about a thing, Querida. Lurch can take care of it."

"But, darling, how are we going to explain to him what _it_ is?"

Gomez stroked her porcelain cheek. "Tish..." He was going to say something but was lost in her beauty again.

Morticia wrapped her arms around his neck. "Gomez..." She sighed. "Lurch?"

"Who?" Gomez asked.

"Your butler." Morticia reminded him.

"Oh yes, Lurch." Gomez remembered. "He knows."

Morticia's eyes widened. "How did he find out?"

"I told him."

"Gomez-"

"Don't worry, my dearest, Lurch is very trustworthy. He won't breath a word of this to anyone." He explained.

Morticia raised an eyebrow. "He breathes?"

"Sometimes." Gomez laughed, wrapping his arms around her.

Morticia pressed against him. "Do it again."

"Do what?" Gomez asked.

"Laugh."

Inadvertaintly, Gomez did.

"I love that. It was always something that pulled my eyes back to you during the eulogy. Your laugh... I knew the first time I heard it, I wanted to hear it all of the time." Morticia explained.

"Oh, Tish... I promise you, after we marry, you'll hear it so much, you'll be sick of it." He paused. "The very first thing I noticed about you was when you were getting out of the car. You were so pale, and mysterious... I can gaurantee that nobody even so much as _looked_ at the corpse."

Morticia kissed him, savoring the taste of his lips. "Darling, I don't want to leave."

"Believe me, Tish, you're absence will break me."

"Then, I'll stay." Morticia rested her head against him. How could it be that in a few short days, she was willing to do anything on a whim for this man?

"Darling, there is nothing in this world I rather would like to do right now, than stare into those beautiful eyes, not caring about time... or your sister. But we both know that you have to leave. It will give us time to come up with ideas on how to approach this situation."

"How much time do we even _have_?" Morticia asked.

Gomez sighed. "Tish, my father, last night he gave me some interesting news."

"Oh, God, no. What is it?"

"Ophelia and I are to be married in five days time."

Morticia's eyes shifted. She looked down and she felt a few tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh, no."

Gomez gently pulled her chin towards him. "Now, obviously, come heaven or highwater, that won't happen."

The tears didn't come, and Morticia smiled. "So, we need a couple of days to think it over."

"Exactly, my love." Gomez embraced her. He kissed her, one of their most passionate kisses yet. Then, he extended his arm. "May I walk you to the door, my lady?"

"Well, what will we say to your parents?"

"Ah, not to worry. I'm with some improvisation, we can pull it off."

Morticia raised an eyebrow.

Rosemary and Alistair then witnessed Gomez, carrying Morticia down the stairs.

Gomez looked over at his parents. "Oh, Morticia spranged her ankle walking down the first flight of stairs. I didn't want her walking down the other five by herself. And I didn't want her taking a fall, five days before the wedding!" He called, merrily.

"Yes, I said that I was quite alright, but he insisted. Your son is truly a gentleman!" Morticia called, lightly, to Rosemary and Alistair.

"I see." Ophelia said, through clenched teeth.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Gomez gently set Morticia down.

"Are you alright, Morticia?" Gomez asked.

"Yes, thank you. I think I can manage." Morticia, then -very convincingly- pretended to stumble a bit.

Gomez caught her and held her upright. "Maybe I should walk you to your car."

"Oh, you don't have to- well, alright." Morticia linked arms with him and took Kitty from Esmeralda. "Thank you for watching Kitty for a bit, mother."

"It's no problem, dear." An exhausted Esmeralda choked out.

Rosemary and Alistair waved to Morticia, Esmeralda and Ophelia.

"We'll see you in three days!" Rosemary called.

Alistair eyed his son, suspiciously but decided to think against his odd feelings.

Ophelia then purposefully crushed her shoe. "Oh, no! My heel broke!" She yelled, extremely over-dramatic.

"Not to worry!" Gomez called as he was leading Morticia out the door. _"Lurch!"_

Lurch then walked over to Ophelia, picked her up and began to carry her to the car.

Ophelia had a terrified look on her face, and she quickly tried to mask it with feighning being tired.

Once they reached the car, Gomez lightly kissed Ophelia goodbye, and it made him sick to have to. He then embraced Morticia, hard, not wanting to let her go. He hugged Esmeralda, and then watched the car drive off, into that cold winter's day.

Once home, Morticia took Kitty and led him upstairs to her bedroom.

Ophelia took off her heels and threw them in the trash. She then walked upstairs to her bedroom.

It was now midnight. Morticia had let Kitty on her bed and had been crying on him for the past hour. "Oh, Kitty, what are we going to do? How are we going to tell them?" She sniffled and rested her head on Kitty, petting him. "Mr. and Mrs. Addams probably hate me as it is. I can just hear them now, calling me a homewrecker or a slut... practically everything Ophelia's ever been called." She chuckled, then closed her eyes. She was about to drift off to sleep when she heard yelling coming from downstairs.

Morticia kissed a now sleeping Kitty goodnight and walked, slowly down the hall.

 _"Ophelia, those were your shoes!"_ She heard her mother yell.

"Yes, but when Gomez Addams marries me, I'll have an entire _closetfull_ of shoes!"

Morticia continued to walk. She then sat at the top of the stairs, watching.

Esmeralda grabbed the shoes out of the trash and handed them to her. "You aren't aloud to throw those away, Ophelia, I forbid it!"

"Mother, you're being _insane_!"

"You're _father_ gave you those shoes!" Esmeralda yelled.

 _"Mother!"_ Ophelia walked over to the trashcan.

Esmeralda ran over to the trash and grabbed the shoes out of her daughter's hand. "I don't care how rich you get, you are absolutely forbidden to forget where you came from, young lady!"

"What's so bad about forgetting? That's all I wanna do!" Ophelia yelled.

Esmeralda slapped her, in tears. "Knock it off!" She took a deep breath. "Your tired. Go up to your room, take the fucking shoes and put them somehwere safe. Got that?"

Ophelia then began to cry hysterically.

Morticia didn't understand why. They had gotten slapped quite a few times by Esmeralda when they mouthed off. It was mostly Ophelia who got the brunt of it. Morticia stopped talking back to her mother after Charles died.

"What's going on?" Esmeralda asked.

Shaking, Ophelia continued to weep. She leaned against the kitchen table for support, still not speaking.

"Ophelia?" Esmeralda paused. "Ophelia, what's wrong?" She asked and held her, to stop her from shaking.

"M-m-mother?" Ophelia stuttered.

"Yes, what is it, girl?" Esmeralda was never particularly affectionate.

"Promise me you won't be angry with her if I tell you?" Ophelia asked.

Morticia listened, intently. _She had better be talking about someone else.,_ she thought.

"Who?" Esmeralda asked.

"Just _promise_ me!" Ophelia yelled.

"Okay!" Esmeralda then calmed herself. "Okay, yes, alright, fine. Out with it."

"Okay." Ophelia sat at the kitchen table and grabbed a makeup wipe out of her makeup wipe/tissue box that a previous boyfriend had crafted for her. She then removed all of her makeup and pulled up her nightgown.

Esmeralda gasped. She saw the cuts, the bruises, and the black eye. "I will _kill_ whoever marked you up before your wedding!"

Morticia stumbled backwards, shocked and afraid.

"No! Please don't!" Ophelia cried. "It was... it was Morticia."

Esmeralda was heartbroken. "It must've been an accident."

Ophelia shook her head. "I was reading a book in that beautiful library, and Morticia burst in. She insisted that I had taken everything from her. She..." Ophelia blew her nose. "She said that she was in love with Gomez, that she deserved to have him."

Morticia was now seething with rage, but also afriad.

"When I tried to say that he was in love with me, she didn't buy it. She called me a slut, and other horrible names. I stood up to her -not physically, of course- and she got angry. She punched me and I fought back but it was no use. She accused me of wanting to keep the money for myself. She choked me and I amost blacked out but I stood up. I leaned against the coffee table, but then she tried to squeeze me to death from behind. I didn't know you could even do that to someone, but you know how odd and death-obsessed Morticia is. I got away but not after she vowed to..." She thought for a moment and blew her nose once more. "destory me. I don't even think she really spranged her ankle, I just think it was some vile attempt to get Gomez to pay attention to her."

Esmeralda fought back tears.

"And mother..." Ophelia put a hand on her's. "That isn't the worst of it. I found Morticia's diary. And in it..." She sobbed. "Oh, God. In it, was a very detailed description on how she planned to kill me!"

Esmeralda couldn't believe it. But if it was true, she knew her eldest was unsafe. "I'm calling the police. I'm calling the police right now."

"Are you angry with her?"

"Angry, I'm disgusted!" Esmeralda shook her head.

Morticia, afraid, ran up to her bedroom and looked in the mirror. Her makeup was still perfect, not that she was checking. Her nightgown was quite low cut in a v-neck, and extended down past the floor. It was tight, and black. It was silky and had gothic designs on it.

Morticia had to think fast. She looked at her sleeping cat, she knew he would be safe here. She quietly raided her closet and found her black gothic heels with ankle straps, the ones she wore to her father's funeral. She hadn't worn those shoes since. But she needed her father with her now more than ever.

She grabbed her black cloak and kissed Kitty goodbye. She searched her bedroom for her diary which she hadn't written in since age ten. But she couldn't find it.

She decided she neded to leave before the police came. So, she ran, quietly down to the living room, grabbed the car keys off of the coffee table and bolted.

She gracefully situated herself into the old, black family car. She started the engine and backed out of the driveway... but not before she heard the overdramatic scream of her older, dangerous sister.


	11. I Fear the Morning Light

Morticia was in a panic. She raced through the ever growing snowstorm, desperatley clinging to the hope that the members of the Addams family were awake... or at least, that Gomez was.

It took nearly four hours, and it was still dark as ever outside, but Morticia had done it. She had finally reached Candeltop Hill. She banged on the door, fearful of what would become of her, of Gomez.

Nobody answered.

Morticia, however, did not give up. She knocked again, and finally, Lurch answered.

"Lurch!" Morticia had never been so greatful to see anyone before. She hugged him.

Lurch was a bit confused but he had grown to like Ms. Frump, so he hugged her back. He groaned. "Come in, Ms. Frump."

Ms. Frump, was shivering and quickly oblidged, shutting the door behind her. "Lurch..." She gulped. "Where is Mr. Addams?"

Lurch pointed up the stairs. "Asleep... in his chambers." He replied and took her cloak.

Morticia nodded. "Thank you, Lurch." She then beckoned him to bend down and whispered, "You didn't see me come in. You don't know I'm here." She sighed. "Alright?"

Lurch groaned and nodded.

Morticia then flew up the stairs, waisting no time. She finally reached the fifth floor when she realized that she didn't know what room was Gomez's. God forbid, one of them belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Addams!

Carefully, Morticia cracked open every creaky door, but nobody was in any room she found. She then walked up to a door, and it had the letters, _F G_ , carved into it. Morticia realized that this was the room that Gomez and Fester had shared as children. Slowly and almost soundlessly -creaky, creaky doors-, she walked into the room.

There was a large and uncomfortable-looking, mahogany bunkbed. The bedhseets were black with dark turquoise octopi designs on them. It was perfect for two little boys. Morticia looked over and noticed that picutre after picture of the brothers creating some amount of mischeif together hung on the walls. There was a picture on the black, dusty, old nightstand that had a twelve year old Gomez and Fester being brought by policeman to a place called _Camp Custer_. Fester was in a cage, Gomez was in handcuffs. They were smiling like they just won the lottery. But, the walls were what attracted Morticia most. They were grey and had depressing designs of a shark, chasing after a smaller shark, ready to eat it. That shark was ready to consume a smaller one. The curtains were white and ripped, as if some clawed beast had taken it's anger out on the once flawless drapes. The room was dark, desolate... a dream.

For a moment, Morticia felt the sadness her lover felt when his brother left. One hopes all they can really depend on is the comfort and love of an older sibling, but when it hits you you're wrong... Morticia nodded in understanding. The difference between she and Ophelia, and Gomez and _his_ older brother, was that they had hope Fester may one day return, and they could reconcile. There was no chance of reconciliation for Morticia and Ophelia. _Especially_ , not now.

She quietly walked out of the room and into the master bedroom, which she and Gomez had taken over. She closed the door behind her. On the bed, she found her darling one. He was sleeping, obviously distressed by her absence. And Morticia couldn't help stare at him. God, he was breathtaking. She knew they would be eachother's reason. Eachother's reason to live, to fight, to breath. She couldn't lose her reason. If she did, it would all be over. She eyed his deliciously built frame, watched his chest rise and fall, slowly. He was devilishly handsome. Even now, at the mere sight of him, her heart was skipping three beats. But she had to wake him.

Cautiously, she walked over to him and stroked his cheek. "Gomez, darling, wake up."

Gomez's eyes flashed open. He smiled. "God, I love lucid dreams." He remarked and pulled her into a kiss.

Morticia desired him, badly. How she wanted to make love to him right now, pretend this was all a dream. But the reality was that it was not a dream, it was their life. Morticia shook her head. _Reality was a bitch._ "Mon cher, it isn't a dream."

Gomez chuckled. "What?"

"I'm sorry I have to do this, my darling." Morticia stated and grabbed a cup of water off of the nightstand. She poured it over his head and Gomez shook fully awake, instantly.

"Tish?" Gomez was thoroughly confused.

"Yes, mon cher, it's me."

Gomez sensed the urgency in her voice. "What is it, my love?" He cupped her cheek.

"Gomez..." Morticia wanted to collapse on top of him, to cry, to explain. But she couldn't. There was no time. "Gomez, stand up."

Gomez did, and gently gripped her arms. "Darling, what is it?"

"I'm in trouble, Gomez." Morticia confessed.

"I'll kill her."

"No, no, darling, don't. It will only further make the police suspect me." Morticia walked over to the window, looking out at the storm. "Oh, _God_! I hope they aren't already on their way."

Gomez put a hand to his forehead, confused. "Morticia, what are you talking about?"

"Gomez..." Morticia turned to him, her face serious as death. "I'm going to be arrested."

Gomez ran up to her. _"What?"_

"Gomez, Ophelia lied to my mother and by now she's probably lied to the police! She showed my mother her injuries from the fight, and said she found my plot to kill her in my diary!" Morticia shifted her eyes. "Hell, I haven't even used the thing since I was ten when my pet vultures, Hubert and Henry passed away."

"Morticia, you could be facing twelve years in prison, maybe even more."

"I..." Morticia didn't know conspiracy to murder was punishable by _twelve years_. That seemed a bit accessive. "Didn't know." She ran to him and began to weep.

He held her tight.

"Gomez, what am I going to do?"

"I'll get you a lawyer, the best damn lawyer money can buy." Gomez said and rubbed her back. "Alright?"

"No, I've never been this afraid. I don't wanna spend twelve yesrs in jail Gomez. Those are years I could spend with you."

"Morticia, look at me." Gomez pleaded.

She cried.

"Loot at me."

Morticia met his eyes. She could tell he was fighting back tears.

"Listen to me, I will _not_ let Ophelia hurt you like this, or at all. I will _always_ protect you and be there for you. We could have children in the next twelve years, we're going to get married soon, we're going to have a life together. And our life together will not end before we marry because of your inhuman sister. Understand?"

Morticia nodded. "Yes, Gomez..." She kissed him. "I do."

Gomez led her to the bed, and he sat on the edge of it with her. He held her hand, and used his free arm to wrap it around her.

Morticia fixated her head on his shoulder.

"Tish, I wanna hear you say those words at the most beautiful ceremony you could dream of." Gomez told her.

"The only thing I care about is that I get to say them to you." Morticia wiped her tears and walked over to the black vanity. She then fixed her makeup and smiled.

"Darling, what-"

"If I am going to go down right now, I'm going to do it with dignity, inside and out."

Gomez walked over to her and kissed her shoulder. "You're the strongest woman I've ever known, my love."

"That's why I had to pick a man who is equally as strong as I am..." She sighed. "For when one of us can't be."

"Tish, knowing I have you by my side, _makes_ me strong."

Morticia smiled and looked in the mirror. "Your love is everything I have. A while ago, I thought my self control was my armour. I was wrong, it was you."

"I will always be your armour, Morticia." Gomez said.

"And I'll always be your's. There's no one I would rather have fighting with me." Morticia responded.

They sat like that for almost and hour, and then Morticia looked at him. "Gomez... two nights ago, the last night you made love to me... you were, unhinged. You were like some desperate, howling demon. You frightened me." Turning to Gomez, she smiled, seductively. _"Do it again."_

Gomez gave a heavy and lust-filled sigh. "Are you sure, now? I want to carita mia, but-"

 _"Gomez."_ Morticia dug her nails into his shoulder. "I will go out strong, and with the most beautiful memory of you in my arms and at my will, and me at your's. Please, darling."

Gomez gulped, he loved the feirceness in her eyes. "I have your whip in the closet."

"Do you have my binds, the red ones?" Morticia asked.

"I saved everything from that night."

"Wonderful. Let's see, the police will probably be coming for me in a couple of hours. So how about we have the most amazingly sexual pity party that we've ever heard of? It could last from right now until six a.m., how does that sound?"

Gomez finished grabbing everything out of the closet, pinned her down and crawled on top of her. "Delightful, my darling. But your going to have to fight to gain the upper hand this time." He said and ran his fingers through her hair.

"I am _so_ looking foward to that." Morticia replied.

Gomez stripped off her clothes, and his own. He kissed her, and their tounges danced in a glorious tango. Morticia moaned in his mouth, demanding more. But this new shift of power was something Gomez rather enjoyed. He proceeded to move elsewhere, and relished the sound of his beautiful Tish's moans of pleasure and desire.

Morticia squirmed under him, needing to be back in control. She struggled and finall stopped, when she realized all it took to get her lover lost in her eyes was just that.

It worked. Gomez looked at her, longingly and enjoying his power too much. That was his downfall.

Morticia quickly broke free and tied him to their bed, using the red ribbon-like binds. She picked up the whip and stood, letting him observe her, and feel the intense pain of waiting for her.

"What are you going to do?" He asked the raven haired vixen, his voice, playful.

"Am I the most beautiful woman you've ever laid... your eyes on?" Morticia asked.

Gomez chuckled. "Oh, Tish... you know that."

Morticia eyed him, raising an eyebrow. "I see... you think you're clever don't you, Gomez?"

"Quite." Gomez replied.

"You won't for long." Morticia whipped him, and smiled as he hissed in pain. She left lash marks on his chest. "Say it again."

"You, my darling, are the most beautiful creature in the history of everything. And I say that with the upmost understanding and confidence."

She whipped him harder, blood was drawn.

"Is that it?" Gomez asked.

Morticia slowly walked up to him, and bent down by his face. "Not. A. Chance."

Gomez was masking his desire with playfulness. Presented with her lips, he fell apart. "Morticia, please..." He begged.

"Ah... now we're getting somewhere." She smirked. She leaned even closer, and he almsot stole a kiss but she backed away.

Gomez was tortured. Sweating, he was a breathless, lustful little puppy before the dark goddess infront of him. "You're evil, Tish."

"Je connais." She replied, giving a saucy wink, whipping him harder.

"Oh, Morticia..." Gomez was even more crazed than before. "I don't know if you're aware what it does to me when you speak French."

Morticia walked around the bed. "Well, I am now."

"Are you going to torture me with it?" Gomez choked out.

"Oh, for the rest of your life." She responded.

Morticia began to walk towards him. As she leaned closer to her wild Italian-Castillian lover, he wiggled out of his binds and pulled her into a kiss, taking the whip from her grasp. He had shifted the power once more. She had let her guard down, and before she knew it, he was back on top of her as he once had been. Now, however, she didn't struggle. She wanted him just as bad as he did her. She indulged him and their desires. It was time, it was five thrity and by God, was she going to make every last moment last.

"Mon sauvage!" She rolled her head back, relishing the trail of kisses he was leaving all over her body, and up her arms.

"Eres divina..." He moaned, in pleasure.

Then, for he could wait no longer, he entered her. Cries of esctacy reverberated against the walls, and by five fity, the lovers were collapsed in eachother's arms, wrapped in the satin sheets and surrounded by the four walls that now knew much too much.

At six ten, Morticia was dressed and her makeup was touched up. She lied in the bed with Gomez until seven... and then, there was a heavy pounding at the mansion's door.


	12. Armed and Dangerous

Rosemary and Alistair jumped out of bed, still in their nightclothes. Alistiar quickly put on his red velvet robe and his wife to the front door.

"Alistiar, darling, it's the police!" She called, obviously concerned.

Alistair pounded on the master bedroom's door, not going in. He didn't understand why his son insisted he sleep there since Ophelia left. Gomez, I thought you said they no longer thought you were involved in Balthazar's murder!" He then ran downstairs to go and talk to the police.

Morticia was stunned. "You were a suspect?" She asked.

Gomez sighed and ran a brush trhough her silky hair. "Yes, my darling, I was." Gomez replied.

"Oh, Gomez... you _are_ dangerous, aren't you?" Morticia stood up and kissed him.

Gomez then pinned her against the wall, forgetting all else, and began to kiss her from her lips, to her neck, to her cleavage and back up again, growling ravenously as he did.

Alistair was talking with two policemen, one tall and one short, who were demanding to be let in.

"Officers, why are you _here_?" Rosemary asked.

"You said our son was innocent!"

The tall policeman raised an eyebrow. "We aren't _here_ for your son, madame. We're here because we have a warrant for Morticia Frump's arrest."

Alistair's stomach turned. He gulped. "For what?"

"Conspiracy to commit muder, sir." The short policeman explained.

Alistair couldn't believe it. "Really? Who?"

The short officer was confused at his reaction. "Umm... her _sister_ , sir."

Alistair's heart sank once more. For a moment, he was excited about he becoming his son's sister-in-law. "I see."

Rosemary was throroughly confused. "Officers, you have the wrong house. She isn't here."

"Well, from the evidence that's been presented to us, we are inclined to believe she might be. Now, will you do the boys in blue a favor and let us in?"

Rosemary stepped aside. "Yes. But I can assure you, you won't find her here."

Alistair ran up the stairs and stopped on the floor of the master bedroom. "Gomez, get down here! The police are at the door!" He yelled and once again, ran back downstairs.

"Gomez..." Morticia and her lover stopped what they were doing and stared, blankly into eachother's eyes. "I don't think they're here for you."

The police had been searching the Addams' estate for the past three hours, and still hadn't found Morticia. They were afraid, had guns at the ready. They were told she might be armed and that she was dangerous. Exhausted, the officers were now practically crawling up the stairs to the fifth floor. They banged on every door, looked in every spare closet or possible hiding area until they reached near the end of the hall. They then heard muffled voices through the bedroom door. They listened.

"I know, cara mia. I know they're not." Gomez said.

"Gomez, darling... what if I don't get out?"

Gomez passionatley kissed her. "I will be _damned_ if I let that happen, Morticia."

The police heard enough. They then burst into the bedroom and found Morticia, sitting at the vanity, classy as an opera-goer. Gomez was standing beside her, dignified.

The police then pointed their firearms at her.

Gomez wanted to attack them, but Morticia was holding the chain on his suit, making sure he stayed put.

"Morticia Frump?" They questioned.

Morticia nodded, expressionless. "Yes, officers. Is there a problem?"

"We have a warrant for your arrest."

"I see." Morticia replied.

"Stand up." The tall officer commanded, the short officer was obviously afraid of her.

Morticia did.

"Walk over to the bed."

She walked, stopped at the foot of the bed.

"Turn around, slowly."

She turned.

"Alright. Put your hands behind your back." The officer then handcuffed her and both began to escort her out of the room.

Gomez followed.

The short officer began to speak. "Morticia... Morticia Frump, you have the right to remain... to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of... court of law. You have the right to an attourn- an attourney, if you can not afford one, one will be... will be appointed to you."

Morticia nodded, and looked to her left, at the short officer. "I don't mean to be a pest, but these handcuffs are terribly uncomfortable. You see, they're awfully loose." She looked him up and down.

Gomez's heart skipped several beats. Even at this state, Morticia was still his beautiful dark enchantress. "Cara mia..." He growled, whispering in her ear and planting a kiss on it.

The officer gulped. He turned to his tall partner. "They're... they're loose, Jerry."

Jerry rolled his eyes. "They _are not_. Stop it, Sam."

Sam nodded. "I'm sorry, ma'am. There isn't anything we can do about the-"

 _"Would ya knock it off, Sam?"_ An annoyed Jerry asked.

Gomez chuckled, causing Morticia to smile. He couldn't believe that Morticia could not only tame a lion, and him... but she could practically bring a police officer -with years of training- to his knees before her by uttering a simple sentence.

Morticia then handed the tall officer the keys to her handcuffs. "You might not want to leave these lying around. They could fall into the wrong hands.

The tall officer gasped. He then laughed, nervously. " _What the hell, Sam?_ Why are you standing there, tighten the handcuffs!" Jerry barked.

Sam quickly took the keys and adjusted the handcuffs, making them as tight as possible. He put the keys in his pokcet and the officers walked faster.

 _Scratch that,_ Gomez thought. _Two officers. She can bring two officers to their knees._

The officers soon were about to lead Morticia out the front door.

Rosemary and Alistair ran after them.

 _"What? She's here?"_ Rosmeary was both angry and confused.

 _"Why. Is. She. Here?"_ Alistair asked, through clenched teeth.

The officers had Morticia at the front door.

Gomez and his flabbergasted parents stood before them.

Gomez spoke. He cupped her cheek. He didn't care about what his parent's knew or didn't know anymore. "I promise you, my darling, I'll get you out."

Morticia nodded. "I know, Gomez."

"Oh, Tish... to live without you, only that would be torture." Gomez professed.

Morticia leaned in for a kiss, tugging on her restraints. "A day alone," she whispered to him. "Only that would mean the end."

They kissed, passionatley.

"I love you." Morticia told him.

"I love you, too." Gomez fought back tears as the officers pulled his beloved into the police car.

They drove off then, and Morticia couldn't help but look into Gomez's eyes, her hand pressed against the glass, seperating her from the outside world, and from Gomez... until he was out of her veiw.


	13. His Darling One

Alistair was seething with rage. The minute the police car dissapeared from veiw, Alistair grabbed his son and shoved him into his office.

 _"What the hell were you thinking?"_ He yelled at his son, slamming the door behind them.

"Father, allow me to _explain_!"

" _No!_ No more explanationations, Gomez! You had _one job_! What happened to the promise you made me, hmm? _You promised me that you would think of this family!_ "

"I did, father! But don't you want my future children _-your future grandchildren-_ to grow up with two parents who love eachother?"

 _"Ophelia said you made very clear where your commitment lied. You lied to her, you lied to everyone!"_

"I didn't! _Ophelia_ lied! She was lying when she said that I was devoted to her and she is lying now when she says that Morticia wants to kill her! That isn't true, _Ophelia attacked Morticia in the library, with the intent of murder and soun the story to make it seem like that inncocent woman is a killer!_ "

"You ought to be _ashamed_ of yourself, Gomez! You dumped your fiancè for your future sister-in-law? That's a new low, even for you."

"Father, it isn't like that! I told Ophelia _the day after_ I fell in love with Morticia that I couldn't marry her!"

 _"Oh, yes, that makes it better!"_ His father spat, venomously. "You have never loved another woman, Gomez. Not ever. You met this one mere days ago, and now you want to prove she's innocent? I can't trust you anymore!"

"What the hell are you talking about-"

" _That woman_ is going to end up like all the others! All of the _hundred women_ you've left."

Gomez marched up to his father, enraged. "Don't you _dare_ say that, I would never do that to Morticia!"

"Do you _realize_ she tried to _kill_ your fiancè?"

"She did no such thing! And do _you_ realize, father, that she isn't just another woman! In the first couple of hours I met her, she changed me."

 _"Bullshit."_

 _"Shut up. Sit down."_

 _"Do not-"_

 _"Just do it, damn it!"_ Gomez pointed at the old wooden desk and his father sat. "Morticia _is_ the most _enchanting_ woman I have ever seen and I know for a fact, that I _will ever_ see. But that insn't why I love her. I don't look at her the way I looked at the other women. Never do I look into those beautiful eyes and see what she could do for me. I live for her, I would _lay down my life for her_. My _life's goal_ is make her happy. All I crave is her pleasure. And her perosnality..." Gomez looked into her eyes. "Morticia is _classy, strong, independent._ "

"What do you _even know_ about her-"

"She has a talent for a number of things, _including but not limited to_ \- chess, cutting out rather _unusual_ paper dolls, feeding, breeding and caring for some deadly and interesting carmivorous plants, dancing the tango like she has done it all her life, making some of the world's most powerful beings fall _to their knees before her-_ "

"Well,-"

"And she has quite the affinity for torture, pain and love. She is kind, she is the most accepting person you will ever meet, and she just adores this house _and father_ , she isn't afraid of Thing, she's actually quite fond of him. She also has become friends with our loyal and some may say, _frightening_ butler of three years, Lurch. So, father, you may not think her innocent, but I _know_ Morticia. And I would become a politician before I thought her guilty of this sort of a crime."

"Gomez..." Alistair looked down, seemingly dissapointed.

"Father, I do not care if you are with me or against me. But I will _damn well_ make sure Morticia is my one and only in _every sense of the word_ , forever. You can either help me take down the most vile and appauling creature _-in all the wrong ways-_ that I have ever had displeasure to run into, and save my beloved, or you can _back the fuck away_ because she is mine and _will always be, goddamit!_ "

Alistair chuckled. He then, after a few moments, spoke. "Son... I understand."

"And another thing, she is-" Gomez was stunned when he realized what the words that came out of his father's mouth were. _"What?"_

"You have _never fought for anyone, stood for anyone,_ like this before. You have never spoken with so much passion and dignity before." Alistair patted his son on the back. "This woman really _has_ changed you, Gomez. Hasn't she?"

"She's the only person in the world I would live for, die for and kill for. I would lay down my life for that woman. If she asked for the universe in a box, I'd get it for her before I ever slept again, even if it took years."

"Oh, Gomez." Alistair began to cry, tears of upmost happiness for his son. "Don't worry, I'm going to help you get Morticia out of there."

Gomez smiled. "How?"

"Son, you haven't practiced in years. I'm going to give you a crash course on being a defense attourney. Your love will be your driving force, and I'm going to handle everything else."

"Father, do you _really think_ I can get her out of there?"

"No."

"Did I miss something here?"

"Not without my help." Alistair stood.

Gomez embraced him. "Thank you, father."

"See, son? Your old dad knows a thing or two." Alistair broke the embrace and skaped Gomez's back.. " _This_ is why I made you go to law school."

Gomez nodded. "Well, we shouldn't waste any time!" He then ran over to the desk and waited for his father to teach him everything he needed to know, in order to save his darling one.


	14. Short & Stoic

Morticia was forcefully pushed into a small, dark interrogation room. The entire time, all she kept in mind was what Gomez had told her before the police came. Shortly before they did, he had said, _Remeber not to answer any deep questions without a lawyer present. Just go with it. Trust me._ Well, Morticia did trust him. But she hoped her lawyer was the best goddamn lawyer that Ivorybrooke had ever seen.

The tall police officer, Jerry paced about the room, in no exact pattern, while Sam simply stayed dormant, across from Morticia, at the desk.

Jerry spoke. "Morticia... do you have any particular... how should I say, _grudge_ against your sister?"

Morticia's remained the stoic. "None whatsoever."

"Well, that's a load of crap." He replied.

Morticia raised an eyebrow. "How do you know what I feel, Officer, or should I say, Detective Gragby?"

Jerry was taken aback. "How did you know my last name?"

"Oh, just an old trick I picked up a couple of years ago." Morticia replied. "But I believe that's besides the point, is it not?"

Sam was mesmerized. He cocked his head, and stared at her. "Are you the devil?"

Jerry slapped Sam upside his head.

"Sorry." Sam appologized.

Morticia seemed flattered but merely showed this with her eyes. "No, Detective Anstine. I am not the devil. He happens to wear a bit more red than I do." She winked at him, in an attempt to intimidate the poor man.

It worked. Detective Anstine gulped.

Detective Gragby spoke, breaking the long silence that had ensued, shortly after Detective Anstine had gulped, frightened. "Tell me what you wrote down in that notebook that night."

"I refuse to discuss this matter without my lawyer present."

"Ah, but you admit there _was_ a notebook involved?"

"I've admitted no such thing."

"So you're saying there is no notebook?"

"I refuse to say there is and I refuse to say there isn't until my lawyer arrives."

"You have a lawyer?" Sam asked.

 _God, I hope so._ Morticia thought. "I do. Now, leave me, please. I won't say anything further."

"We oughtta leave her, Jerry." Detective Anstine told his partner.

"Yea, I know." Detective Gragby eyed her, suspicious. "We hope you realize that you will not be let out of this room until you cooperate?"

"You do realize I've gone an entire month without food before and an entire two weeks with little to no water because I was lost in the jungles of the Amazon with my father at the very young age of thirteen?"

Sam was impressed. "You're joshing!"

"Not today, detective." Morticia replied.

Sam was then pulled out of the interigation room by his partner, and the door slammed.

Morticia then looked about the room. She was afraid of what was going to happen, but was content in her faith in her lover. Gomez was going to get her out of here. He would get her a great lawyer, the best. She just didn't know it was going to be him.


	15. Attorney for the Defense

Morticia had been in the interrogation room for the past three days. She was extremely upset that she was being treated like a criminal. She then had to remind herself that -as far as the detectives and most of the families knew- she was one.

The detectives came in every hour, basically pleading with her to talk. She refused to disclose until her attorney -whomever he or she was- was present. Unfortunately, she didn't know when or where this person would show up. Fortunately, Gomez called her every day to insure that she was alright, not saying much of anything, but above all being fed and given water twice a day.

Gomez knew that this wasn't a typical way to go about investigation. But the detectives were told she was dangerous. She was. But Gomez knew they were almost certainly treating her like some hardened criminal. He had to get over there. Fast.

"Father?" Gomez turned to face Alistair in his father's office, where they had been working tirelessly on this case for these past three days.

"Yes, son." Alistair answered the question that had not yet been asked. "You are more ready than you'll ever be. You will face that court like an Addams. And face Morticia like a man, and a future husband."

Gomez was taken aback. "Does this mean I have your blessing?"

Alistair nodded. "It means that when it comes to tombstones, I'm okay with her name adjacent to my son's."

Gomez embraced him, patting him on the back. "Thank you, Father. For helping, for understanding."

Alistair chuckled. He then flipped his son and threw a large kitchen knife at his head, just missing it. "Not today, son!" He smiled.

Gomez gave a hearty laugh. "Will I never best you?"

Alistair began to walk out. "Maybe someday, but not today."

Gomez then grabbed the knife off of the ground and threw it at him, but he caught it midair.

"Nice try, old boy." Alistair laughed.

Gomez laughed as well. He then bid goodbye to his mother and father, and began to drive down to the Ivorybrooke police station as fast as humanly possible... his breifcase in the passenger's seat.

"Ms. Frump?" Detective Fletcher handed a hankercheif to a hysterical Ophelia.

She was dressed in a gorgeous, flowing golden gown and matching slippers. She took a white, manicured nail and flicked the mascara out of her eye.

"Yes, detective?" Ophelia blew her nose, rather loudly.

"Please describe exactly what you remember going down that night... in the library."

Ophelia's mascara was streaming down her face, mixing with her almost blue tears. She shook and Esmeralda patted her on the back. "Yes, of course, detective." Ophelia replied, and began to recall that fateful night. "Well, I had just finished telling Morticia that Gomez was in love with _me_. But she stormed out of my guestroom and swore her revenge. I thought she was bluffing!" She held a hand to her heart and blew her nose once more. "Well, I decided to take a load off of my shoulders and read a book in the library. I was careful not to disturb anyone, of course. Anyway, Morticia stormed into the library and accused me of stealing everything from her! She said she wanted Gomez all to herself!"

Esmeralda was about to speak but held her tounge.

Ophelia continued as the detective took notes. "Well, I stood up. I said again that I couldn't help it if Gomez was in love with me. And she proceeded to call me all kinds of horrible names. And-"

" _What,_ Ms. Frump, did she call you?"

"You name it." Ophelia responded. "Bitch. Slut. Homewrecker. Whore..." Her voice trailed off and she burst into another crying fit.

"I know this is difficult." The officer gently squeezed her knee. "But please try to explain best you can."

"Very well." Ophelia nodded. "Well, she... she punched me. She accused me of wanting the money all to myself! And she began to beat on me, so I started to defend myself. The fight got very violent, all I was trying to do was get away but she wouldn't have it. Then, I knocked her to the ground. She choked me and I nearly blacked out, but I stood. I leaned against the coffee table to steady myself. However, she grabbed me from behind and began to squeeze the life out of me! I... I didn't even know you could do that to someone. But Morticia is crazy, unstable, and obsessed with death and the occult. _She_ _would_ know one could do that to another."

"Did you fight back?"

Ophelia nodded. "But she was stronger than me. Before she could do any serious damage, I got away. But before I did, she vowed to..." She sniffled. "Destroy me."

The officer looked sickened. "I see. I'm so sorry, ma'am. Now, what's this about a diary?"

"Yes, Morticia's old diary. In it was something new. This new entry was a very detailed description on how she planned to... kill me." She looked down. "Oh, _God_!" Ophelia cried.

"You've provided said diary as a peice of evidence, is that correct?"

Ophelia nodded. "I'm afraid so, detective."

"Here. I'll leave you and your mother alone and get you both some coffee." Detective Fletcher smiled.

"Oh, none for me, thank you." Ophelia flashed a bittersweet smile.

The detective nodded and left the room.

Esmeralda and Ophelia sat in silence until Ophelia spotted Gomez, in his best suit and carrying a breifcase, walk in out of the corner of her eye.

She was speechless. "Mother..."

Esmeralda was confused. _"It's Gomez."_ She raised an eyebrow.

Ophelia stopped crying, quickly dabbed her eyes and ran out to greet Gomez. When she spotted him, she threw herself in his arms and kissed him. "Gomez, I'm so glad you're here in my hour of need! You selfless, wonderful man! I love you, I'm so sorry you have to see me like this!"

Gomez pulled away and looked her dead in the eyes.

Ophelia backed off. "Darling?"

Gomez grew cold and quiet. "I'm here as Morticia's defense attorney."

Ophelia was taken aback. "But... you're not a-"

"I went to lawschool. And I'm going to fight this entire thing, but most importantly I am going to fight _you_." He explained, very serious.

Ophelia held up her head. "You won't win."

"You're right. Not without exposing the truth about you and all of your lies first. I can not _wait_ to bring you down, Ophelia. I can't wait to make you suffer for all you've done."

Ophelia seemed offended. "All I've _done_ , is make sure I remained your fiancé."

Gomez shook his head. "You don't love me, you don't love your sister, you don't love _at all_. You're a vindictive, lying _whore_. And soon this _entire state_ is going to know that."

"I _hate_ you." Ophelia hissed.

"I know." Was all Gomez said. He then pushed past her and walked up to the door of Morticia's interrogation room.

"Ms. Frump?" Detective Anstine popped his head into the room.

Morticia looked up. "No, detective." She responded, figuring he would again, beg her to answer more questions.

Detective Anstine shook his head. "No. That isn't it."

Morticia was confused. "Hmm?"

"Ms. Frump... your lawyer is here."

 _Oh, thank heavens._ Morticia thought.

The lawyer whom would be defending Morticia in the case walked in and sat down beside her. He kissed her hand.

Morticia was breathless. Her eyes grew to the size of Christmas ornaments. _"Gomez."_


	16. Up in the Danger Zone

"What's happening?" Ophelia's mother asked.

"Umm..." Ophelia had to think of an excuse, and think of one _fast._ "Mother, Gomez is going to be Morticia's defense attorney."

Esmeralda was more confused than ever. "Well, I _never-_ "

"Because..." Ophelia cut her off. "Because Morticia, and..." She had not counted on _this_ at all. She had calculated and planned very carefully. _God,_ she should've learned more about the man and less about the money that night. But now it was too late, and everything was about to come crashing down. "I'll..." She gulped. "Talk to him later."

 _"No."_ Esmeralda was enraged. " _I'll_ talk to him. _Now._ " She began to march down the hall of the police station, but Ophelia grabbed her and held her still.

"Mother, _stop!_ Don't make anything worse, _please._ " Ophelia begged.

Esmeralda nodded, and attempted to calm herself. "No!" She screamed. "I am _very_ confused right now. You need to tell me what's going on _this minute,_ young lady _or else._ "

Ophelia nodded. "Okay... okay. Just come back in the room and _sit back down,_ mother, _please._ " Ophelia pleaded.

 _"No. I've had enough. Tell me what the hell is going on, Ophelia. I mean it."_ Esmeralda ordered, stomping her foot on the ground.

Ophelia looked away for a breif moment, carefully calculating her next move. "Very well." She sighed. "Gomez has postponed our wedding. His father said he won't get any money until he uses his skills he got from lawschool." She nodded, as if trying to convince herself that this was all true. "So, he is Morticia's defense attorney. But he stopped me and kissed me. He told me he loved me and that this would all be over soon. Yes, he said that he would make sure his rusty skills would land her in prison."

Esmeralda shook her head, her brain was rattled. "I see." She took a deep breath. "It's very hard to make sense of this, dear."

"I know it is, mother." Ophelia replied. "Just..." She took her mother's gnarled hands. "Trust me, alright?"

Esmeralda smiled at her eldest child. "Alright, dear." She patted her hands. "Let's go sit down. I called a lawyer, he should be here soon."

Gomez had been metaphorically holding Morticia's hand, talking to the police for the past two hours. A date was set for the trial, and what a trial there would be. The story made headlines, and now the majority of the coty of Ivorybrooke was attending, and the _entire town_ of Rosewood would be there as well.

Morticia felt like she was going to be sick. "Mr. Addams..." How odd did she feel, not calling him Gomez. "I didn't realize that the entire city was permitted to attend my trial."

 _Mr. Addams_ , nodded. He then looked, coldly at the detectives in the room. "Nor did I, Ms. Frump."

"Well, you... you see, Mr. Addams, the entire town signed a petition and brought it to the mayor, stating that they _wanted to attend_. Acording to the laws of this city, legally, we can't stop them now." Officer Anstine said.

Gomez nodded. "No matter."

Morticia flashed him a subtle, _What the hell are you doing?_ look.

Mr. Addams continued. "We will win whether nobody attends or everybody attends." He turned to Morticia. "Isn't that right, Ms. Frump?"

Morticia nodded. "Yes. I have full confidence in both myself and my lawyer."

"Ms. Frump... the _other_ , Ms. Frump and her lawyer have offered a deal. And the mayor has agreed. No trial, no mention of any of this in the paper, _nothing_ as long as you confess to the crime right now. You'll be realeased from prison when your twenty seven, maybe sooner. But no parole." Detective Gragby explained.

Mr. Addams laughed. _"Hah! Twenty seven?_ No, Detective Gragby. We want a trial, and a trial is what we are going to get."

Morticia nodded, sawllowing both her pride and her fear. "That's quite right, detectives. I want a trial. Mr. Addams and I will defend my honor until we are brought down for good."

The detecitves shook their heads. "Think about it, Ms. Frump. You'll still have a whole life ahead of you."

"I have one now." Morticia replied.

The detectives sighed. Upset by this, they left with the parting words, "Think about it." But they saw Morticia shake her head, her mind having been made up.

Gomez had previously requested a private conversation with his client, and the officers hesitantly complied. He waved at the glass which they couldn't see out of, ensuring whomever was behind it would leave. Then, desperate for her lips, he kissed her.

Morticia ran her shaking fingers through his handsome black hair, whispering his name.

After a few minutes, they stopped and Gomez took her hands. "Tish, I'm sorry. I didn't know that the whole town would attend."

Morticia couldn't wrap her head around any of this. "Gomez, you're a lawyer?"

Gomez realized then that he never told her anything. "Yes, darling, I believe I mentioned my parents forcing me to attend law school? I was a defense attourney for a year and then never did it again. I didn't lose, I just hated it so."

Morticia remembered him saying something like that. She just never thought... " _Why_ did they force you to go to law school?"

"Although I _do_ fully believe that lawyers are right up in the danger zone with politicians and orthadontists, I now understand why I was forced to attend lawschool. It was so I could protect my family."

"Gomez, I don't understand."

"I know a lot of things, Morticia. My father is on our side, he helped me. We _can_ win this case, but you'll have to trust me."

"Gomez... are you saying that your parents is alright with this?"

Gomez smiled, and nodded. "Morticia, they're saying that when it comes to tombstones, they would love nothing more than your name adjacent to mine." He kissed her hand. "And so would I." He then began to kiss each one of her fingers, individually. Then, he kissed her all the way up her arm, slowly, teasing her.

Morticia moaned at his touch. "Gomez, darling, don't you think I've been through enough?" She asked, sounding slightly wounded.

Gomez moved quicker, and stole her lips in a firey, passionate kiss.

Thankfully, no one was observing the pair through the glass, and no one heard their explosive, amorous kisses, moans of pleasure and intense cries of passion. They were to busy explaining to a vindictive blonde that _yes,_ yes there would be a trial. The most intense goddamn trial that Ivorybrooke, Massachusetts had ever seen.


	17. Contempt of the Heart

It was time. Ironically enough, there had been nothing but sun for the past five days, and all the snow had melted. The city rarely ever got as much snow as this winter, anyway. In the whole of recorded Ivorybrooke history, there had never been a bigger trial. It was mainly due to the fact that the people knew so little about what was really going on. _That_ was why they just had to be there. They typically knew everything going on in the city, and in each of their respective towns, of course. There were a few rumors that Ophelia bribed the judge -or possibly slept with him, or that Morticia put hexes or cast spells on the judge. But really, they knew nothing. In truth, the people only knew three things. _One: Two sisters were facing off, one fighting to put the other behind bars, and one fighting for her freedom. Two: These sistesrs just so happened to be the Rosewood town slut, and the Rosewood town weirdo. Three: There was going to be drama. And real drama was something nobody in that city had seen in the last twenty years._

Hoards of people gathered at the largest courthouse in Ivorybrooke. In exactly twenty one minutes, the floodgates would open. And the people would pack into the courthouse like sardeens. Only these people, were _very_ alive and _very_ hungry.

Gomez and Morticia sat at to the right of the courthouse. They were the first ones there.

Quickly, yet passionatley, Gomez kissed his darling one.

Morticia gave a small smile. But then she looked away, worried.

"Do you trust me?" Gomez asked, gently turning her head by her chin, to look him in the eyes.

Morticia nodded. "I do."

Then, five minutes later, the judge and the all-male jury arrived. Three minutes after, Ophelia and her lawyer, Mr. Brastoff showed up and sat to the left of the courthouse.

The detectives, Esmeralda, Rosemary and Alastair sat in the front. The Rosewood police department sat behind them.

Esmeralda whispered to Ophelia. "I'm sorry you have to do this, darling. Be brave."

Ophelia gave a sly smile which Esmeralda misintepreted as bravery. "Oh, don't worry mother... I will." She replied and winked at Mr. Brastoff, whom gave a smile in return.

Esmeralda refused to even look at Morticia. She was _disgusted._ Her father, her father would be _ashamed_ if he could see her now. Hell, he would be ashamed if he could see any of them now. How she wished Charles were here, to hold her. To say to her, _Don't cry, angel. Everything's going to be fine._ She couldn't understand it. She couldn't understand any of it. Her closest daughter, Morticia had done something like that. It... it was the ultimate betrayl.

Once everyone was situated, the clock struck 3:03 pm. Now, at this time, the floodgates opened. People poured into the courthouse, sat as close to the front as they possibly could. _This_ is what Morticia hated about this city. It clung to the slightest bit of drama as if it were a white cat's hair on a black sweater.

The courthouse was buzzing.

The judge banged his gavel. "Order!" He yelled. "Order in this court!"

Everyone stopped talking.

"Now," the judge cleared his throat. "We are here for the trial of Frump v.s. Frump." He then began to mumble under his breath, "I see of _one of you_ has chosen to be represented by one of the best lawyers in the business."

Ophelia smirked.

The judge continued. "I am Judge Craps. Now, Morticia Frump, you are being charged with conspiracy to commit murder and face up to twelve years in prison if proven guilty. You are pleading innocent, am I correct?"

Morticia nodded. "Yes, your honor." She replied calmly.

"Do you understand the criminal charges filed against you and your plea?"

Morticia nodded. "Indeed I do."

Judge Craps turned to Ophelia. "Happy early birthday, Ms. Frump, I appologize for the circumstances."

Morticia shook her head. "Pardon, judge, but today is the day before _my_ birthday. I'll be turning eighteen."

She then heard all of the devout church-going ladies snicker or speak ill of her. She tried not to smirk, she couldn't stand those ladies. They were constantly telling her that witchcraft was evil and she needed to find Jesus. They knew nothing about her.

The judge shook his head. "Nevermind, then."

Gomez squeezed Morticia's hand. "Happy early birthday, Tish." He whispered.

Morticia whispered back, "Thank you, Gomez."

Judge Craps hammered his gavel once more... and the trial started.

Lurch was at the Addams mansion, looking at a picture at the bedside of the humongous bed in the master bedroom. It was a picture of Gomez, tightly holding Morticia in his arms. The picture genuinley moved Lurch.

In the short time his master's beloved had been staying at the house, he had grown rather close with her. She was a beautiful woman, true. But she was greatful when Lurch merely fed Kitty for her when she had been with Gomez that night. She was appreciative of the little things Lurch did, and that meant a lot to him.

Whenever he ran into Ophelia, she was extremely demanding. She would command him to do the most menial of tasks, like retreiving her hair tie when it was right next to her. Or pouring her tea when he was three rooms away and the tea was three feet away, then complaining when he wasn't fast enough. He hated Ophelia. He hated her so much.

But Morticia always made sure it wasn't to much trouble -even thought the tasks were easy for Lurch and even if they weren't, he liked her so he did them with pleasure anyway- and she trusted him to take Kitty for his walks. If anyone was to be his new mistress, he wanted it to be her. And he knew Mr. Addams did as well.

Ms. Frump was his friend, and he decided he was going to suprise her when she got home.

Lurch and Thing then spent the next two hours decorating the house in such a way that they just _knew_ their future mistress would be pleased with. Thing scattered blood red and black roses about the now tidy master bedroom and had candles surrounding the bed -to be lit later. Lurch had strategically placed black stremers and other spooky and/or gothic décor throughout the house. Thing painted the door in black paint:

 _Mon cher & Cara mia_

Lurch groaned in approval when he noticed the beautiful, elegant writing on the door. He thought Thing did a marvelous job. Things were going well in the Addams household. He only hoped that things were going even better at the courthouse.

"Exhibit _A._ " Mr. Brastoff began to speak, as Morticia was sitting at the witness stand.

"This diary. Yes, ladies, even the _town witch_ keeps a diary. Now, the second last entry was dated 12/11/65." He walked up to Morticia. "Now, Ms. Frump, will you explain to the jury why you wrote this entry?"

Morticia nodded. "Of course, Mr. Brastoff. It was my tenth birthday. I was upset because Ophelia had forced the family to take her birthday trip to Disneyland on _my_ birthday." Morticia shuddered at the thought of the awful place.

"I see. And what did you write in the notebook?" Mr. Brastoff handed her the brown leather-bound book.

The book was dustier than ever, Morticia hadn't seen it in going on eight years. She blew a bit of dust off the cover.

"Read it aloud for the jury, please, Ms. Frump."

Morticia cleared her throat. _"Dear Diary, today was absolutely wretched. It's my birthday and Ophelia decided she wanted to take the trip to Disneyland for her birthday today. It isn't fair that she gets what she wants just because she's older. We had to spend hours on the plane, and Ophelia whined because mother wouldn't let her have the window seat. She always tries to ruin my birthdays. We got to Disneyland and I saw a ridiculous-looking giant mouse. His name was Mickey. I was very confused as to why these people were being forced to parade around in strange costumes for the amusement of these children, whom only whined the whole time. It was very off putting. I then thought that perhaps we could go on the Haunted Mansion ride for my birthday, because it sounded the least terrifying. But of course, Ophelia was too scared. I don't understand how that was scary to her, but she laughed on It's a Small World. Riding in that boat with all of those colourful dolls and that horrid song playing was truly the scarriest experience of my entire life. Sometimes I wish I could make Ophelia go away. I wish that I could just have one birthday without her ruining it. But, I suppose-"_

"Stop. We've heard enough, Ms. Frump, thank you." Mr. Brastoff took the notebook back.

"Objection!" Gomez yelled. "That's irrelevant, she was ten. All ten-year-olds say those things."

"She _is_ a witch, your honor. She might actually be ableto make her sister dissapear." Mr. Brastoff contradicted.

"Overruled." Judge Craps decided, then hammered his gavel. "The prosecution may proceed."

"With pleasure." Mr. Brastoff proceeded. "Ms. Frump, is it true your written words were, _I wish I could make Ophelia go away. I wish I could just have one birthday without her ruining it_?"

Morticia nodded. "They were."

Judge Craps raised an eyebrow.

Mr. Brastoff proceeded. "Fast foward to December 1st, 1973... this year. Now, do you deny, Ms. Frump, that this is indeed your journal?"

"It _was_. While I do still own it, I haven't written in it for about eight years." Morticia replied.

"Oh, really?" Mr. Brastoff raised both eyebrows. "Then why is an entry dated 12/1/73? It reads, _Dear Diary, Today I tried to kill my sister. At first, I wanted to confront her for stealing the only man I'll ever love. She kept saying that he was in love with her, and if that's true, there can not be a her for him to be in love with."_

Everyone in attendance gasped.

Mr. Brastoff continued, but his voice became hesitant... slightly shaky. _"It didn't work, she got away. But this time... this time it will work. I'm going to-"_ Mr. Brastoff looked at Ophelia, who stared daggers into his soul. He continued. _"I'm going to sneak into her room while she is sleeping when we go home to pick up our things in a couple of days. Then, I'm going to grab a large kotchen knife and stab her, first in the heart. Then I'll keep stabbing her until she is no longer moving, is no longer alive. I want to see the thick, crimson blood pouring from her body. Then, I'm going to grab her corpse and drive it to the lake. There, in the waters of Lake Greenmeadow, is where I will dump her lifeless body. When I get home, I'll..."_ He hated the way Ophelia was staring at him, he wished he could say why. _"I'll use bleach. Bleach gets out stains and might not show up under blacklight, I read it in one of my books on how to get away with murder. Once the evidence is gone, I'll tell mother that she's gone missing, I'll help the police search for her, do everything I can. If anyone can be stoic, it's me. Nobody will figure out a thing, and then I can have my true love all to myself."_

Every single person in the room's jaws hit the floor. Esmeralda was crying, jurors were gulping and the attendees were gasping. The nuns were doing the sign of the cross over and over again, trying to zone out.

"That is not my handwriting." Morticia said.

"But, it _is_ your diary. Besides, handwriting changes a lot in eight years." Mr. Brastoff walked back, slowly, to the bench. "The prosecution rests."

It was Gomez's turn now. He stood. "I call Esmeralda Frump to the witness stand."

Thing was trembling. He was worried his future mistress would be thrown in jail for nothing. He knew she wouldn't hurt anyone unless she had to. She wasn't evil. He gestured his concerns to Lurch.

Lurch groaned. "I know, Thing."

Thing tried to explain that she was innocent, and he wished he could tesitfy.

Lurch put the finishing touches on the black wreath on the door. "Me too, Thing." There. Now the decorating was done. "Do you think Ms. Frump will like it?"

Thing gave a thumb up, and Lurch smiled. "Don't worry..." He gave a hollow moan. "She'll come home."

Thing held up a fist.

Lurch sighed. "We _can't._ "

Thing wasn't having any of it.

Lurch groaned. "Alright." He agreed.

Now Ophelia was on the witness stand. She had been for the past half hour.

"Is it true that at six years old, you locked your sister in the closet for a week, causing her to develop a fear of tightly enclosed spaces, which you have used against her?"

"Well..." Ophelia looked away.

"I would advise you to look at the defense when you're speaking." Gomez said.

Ophelia looked at him. "Well, yes. It is."

The attendees were about to gasp, again, but Ophelia cut them off.

"But if I had known that it would cause her to develop that fear, I never would have done it." She smiled, sweetly.

"Uh huh." He shook his head. "You seem to have some sort of a grudge against your sister." He verbally recounted the incidents involving Ophelia that Morticia had spoken about.

Ophelia was shocked. "I have no grudges against anyone. I _love_ my sister!" She cried.

"It's a criminal offense to lie under oath." Gomez told her, she seemed offended. "Do you love your sister?"

Ophelia was sweating, but only slightly. "Of. Course. I Do."

"Do you love your sister?" Gomez asked again, with more intensity.

"Yes!"

 _"Do you love your sister?"_

Ophelia was sweating, and wanted to scream. _"Well, would you if she tried to kill you?"_ She yelled.

"This isn't about me, Ms. Frump." Gomez stated. He paused. "Now, you say that you happened upon this notebook the night you claim your sister attacked you?"

Ophelia nodded. "I said that, yes."

Gomez chuckled, and Morticia felt her knees weaken again. She didn't understand how he could do that... even at a time like this.

"But your mother stated that she did not see the notebook in Morticia's suitcase. And-"

 _"And neither did I!"_ A deep, booming voice yelled from the back of the courthouse. Doors slammed behind the mystery witness.

 _"Lurch!"_ Morticia was so happy to see him.

Thing waved to her, and Morticia waved back.

"Objection!" Mr. Brastoff yelled. "This witness hasn't sworn in."

Judge Craps remained calm. "Very well." He eyed Lurch. "Swear in."

Lurch did as he was told, it was the most speaking he had done in... his life.

"Now, Mr... Lurch, is it?"

Lurch nodded, groaning.

"Uh huh, what was it you said about the notebook?"

Lurch stepped up to the jury. "I'm the Addams' butler. I unpacked Morticia's _entire_ suitcase and saw no sign of it." He paused. "I saw a pen in Ophelia's suitcase. In fact, a notebook that resembled this was in there as well... it very well may have been this one."

"Thank you, Lurch." Gomez responded.

Lurch groaned, and then sat in the front next to Alistair.

Gomez turned back to Ophelia. "Ms. Frump, will you please write your name on this peice of paper?" He handed her a small peice of parchment.

Ophelia oblidged. "There."

"Thank you." Gomez compared her handwriting to that of the latest entry. "Now, anyone can tell that the handwriting making up this diary entry looks just like the handwriting of Ms. Ophelia Frump."

Esmeralda was confused. Gomez was doing a great job. It was almost like... he _wanted_ Morticia to walk free.

Another hour of accusations, yelling and objections had passed. "Well..." Judge Craps eyed the clock on the wall. "We're going to let the jury come to a decision-"

"There's no need, Judge, we believe we already have." The head juror, Henry spoke.

Gomez tightly held Morticia's hand. He blew that other lawyer out of the water and had a good feeling.

"Well, then by all means, go ahead." Judge Craps replied.

"We, the jury find the defendant..."

Everyone held their breath.

 _"Guilty-"_

Henry kept talking but all Morticia heard was the word, guilty. _Guilty. Guilty. Guilty._ She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She couldn't believe she would be sent to prison for twelve years. _Guilty. Guilty. Guilty._ The word rang in her ears. _Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty..._

 _"Stop!"_ Gomez yelled.

Nobody moved a muscle. Nobody talked. Nobody breathed.

Gomez continued. He turned to face Morticia and the jury. He took Morticia's hand and stood in front of her. "Now, I know that I blew that man-" He pointed to a flabbergasted Mr. Brastoff. "Right out of the water in regards to this trial! I know all of you want to see this amazing woman in jail because she's a witch, because ninety percent of people in Ivorybrooke are radical Christians and have hated her since you first set eyes on her. But none of you know Morticia. _I know Morticia._ She is strong, beautiful, and cares more about people and the right of everyone to be themselves than any of you pretend to. The moment I laid eyes on this woman, I was enchanted. Not just by her obvious beauty, but by the way she carried herself. By the way she had so much command and power over everything but had no need to use it. I am madly in love with this seductive, illusive creature of the night. I love her more than I have ever loved and will ever love anyone. She changed me. I used to be a cad, a fool. By a mere glance, she changed me. I am who I am right now because of my darling Tish. She doesn't use potions or spells to hurt people or control people unless they are a serious danger to her or the people she loves. It's called self defense.

"When I saw her, I immideatley noticed that her porcelain skin could make a corpse blush. Those ruby lips and those black eyes make me weak. My love for her is something I will fight for long after I am dead and gone. It's too precious for me to give up simply because some assholes decide that _non-Christains, witches and Spanish men_ don't deserve love." He proclaimed. "I refuse to go down like this. That vile creature-" Gomez pointed to Ophelia. "Is a liar and a whore. She wrote that entry, she attacked Morticia in the library, she is the one who is guilty."

"Hold him in contempt!" Ophelia shouted, afraid.

"Oh, no!" Gomez marched up to Ophelia, getting in her face. "I have been held in contempt for too long, trying to do my duty. My duty is to have beautiful children with a woman I worship adore rather than a woman that sickens me to my very core." He walked back over to Morticia. "All I know is that she is my reason to live, to breath. I would die for her, I would kill for her. Either way, what bliss." He added, smiling at his dark beauty. "I don't just desire her, I _will die_ without her." Gomez spoke honestly. He looked into Morticia's eyes, seeing nobody but her. "Cara mia..."

Morticia was touched to her soul, and clear, glass-like tears ran down her cheek. She was indeed beautiful when she cried. "Mon cher..." She ran to him and they made out, hard, infront of every person and/or disembodied hand there.

Ten minutes passed, and it went from touching to uncomfortable, so everyone in attendance except Ophelia clapped. Thing even gave a thumb up.

Thunderous applause came from everyone, even the nuns who were still confused as to why they were clapping, but decided they would pray about it later.

Judge Craps hammered his gavel, as hard as he could. "Well... I believe we have come to a conclusion."

Morticia and Gomez stopped, and holding eachother, looked up at the judge.

Nobody moved a muscle. Nobody talked. Nobody breathed.

Henry spoke, crying incessantly. "We... we the jury find this wonderful woman inncocent!"

Judge Craps smiled. "And I, the judge, senetence you to freedom."

Ophelia was enraged. She turned to her lawyer. "What? We had a _deal_ , Alan! You promised me you would put her in _prison!_ "

Mr. Brastoff gulped. "I don't care if you fucked me once, twice or three times Ophelia! I don't care what happened last night! They deserve eachother, and _you_ deserve to rot in prison!"

" _Alan!_ How dare you suggest I did such a thing!"

Judge Craps appeared rather shocked. "What is going on?"

"It's true, you're honor!" A policeman yelled. "She did the whole department!"

"Yea, all to further push us to arrest this lady!"

"Yea, and she screwed the jury too!" Henry shouted.

Just then, everyone was talking, snickering, yelling, screaming, and soon a huge fight broke out. Before anything got too violent, Judge Craps hammered his gavel.

Everybody stopped what they were doing.

"I know!" The judge spoke.

There was dead silence.

"She slept with me too." The old judge laughed. "But no hot, steamy sex is as good as going to bed every night, knowing that I didn't let an innocent suffer alone, in prison for twelve years! Am I right?"

There were cheers and hoots and hollars from everyone. Ophelia was livid.

Morticia walked over to Ophelia. "I do believe you lied under oath... that alone is a criminal offense."

Ophelia backed away and ran out of the courthouse. A small _ping!_ could be heard from behind her.

Gomez ran to where he had heard the noise, and picked up an engagement ring... _Morticia's_ engagement ring. He walked over to his only and extended his hand.

She took it.

"My darling, I believe _this..._ belongs to you." Gomez slipped the ring on her finger and wrapped her up in a passion-filled kiss, bending her back in a way that made the nuns blush.

Everyone walked out of the courthouse, enlightened and wishing the unhappy couple all good things. Morticia and Gomez figured they meant well, though.

The lovers walked through the path made by the crowd, proudly. Morticia then spotted Ophelia, out of the corner of her eye.

Vengeful, Ophelia lunged at her. "How dare you? How dare you to this to me?" She grabbed her and the sisters were on the ground. "Why couldn't you just _die?_ "

Gomez grabbed Morticia and security grabbed Ophelia, pulling her away and dragging her into the courthouse.

 _"You bitch!"_ She screamed. Then she was tased.

Gomez held her and pushed the hair our of her face, getting a real sense of deshavu. "Are you alright, my darling?" He asked her.

Morticia flashed that small smile, reserved for him. "You're holding me, aren't you?"

Gomez laughed and she kissed him. He then picked her up, and carried her, bridal style to the car that Lurch had already started.

Gomez sat in the back with his dark beauty. "I promised you I would always fight with you."

Morticia sat in his lap, and he kissed her neck. "I promised you, I believed you."

Gomez moaned against her ghost white skin. " _Nobody_ can hold my heart in contempt for long, cara mia. Not when you're the one it beats for."

Morticia smiled. "I know."


	18. Eighteen

**_I give credit where it's due: the part about being unable to sleep without him is from a wonderful fanfiction titled, "Eachother's Equal"._**

Eighteen. Morticia could hardly believe that she was waking up next to her soon-to-be-husband, at just eighteen. She knew that this feeling would indeed last forever. Gomez loved her like nobody else, more than anybody else. His love was going to keep her young forever. His love was going to keep her eighteen with him, forever.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she was suprised to find a pillow next to her, and not her fiancé. Instead, he was staring at her beautiful body, draped across the sheets in the luxury Ivorybrooke hotel suite that they were staying in. The lovers couldn't wait until they got home to own eachother.

This ended up working out, as both Alistair and Rosemary, and Esmeralda needed a place to stay for the night. The taxi had broken down and it had finally begun to rain.

Gomez kissed her hand. "You're awake." He smiled.

"It's your fault, you know." She said, teasingly.

"Oh?" Gomez chuckled. "What's my fault?"

"I've found that I can no longer sleep for prolonged periods of time if I'm not in your arms." She explained.

"I see. Well, I can now understand why I had been watching you for about fifty two seconds when you awakened." Gomez replied.

"Gomez..." The sun then shone bright through the window. Morticia gracefully held up her arms as a knee jerk reaction. "Sun... il me perçoit comme un poignard."

"Oh, my darling..." Gomez growled, overcome with lust. "En garde, monsieur soleil!" Lurch had brought Gomez's rapiers from off the wall of the master bedroom and placed it in their hotel room last night. Gomez used the rapier and closed the thick curtains, soothing his dark beauty.

"Merci, mon amour." Morticia relaxed a bit.

"Tish... that's French."

"Qui." Morticia replied.

Gomez planted a rough kiss on her lips. "Happy Birthday, my love. May it be your best yet."

Morticia smiled and stroked his cheek. "I'm with you, aren't I?"

Gomez removed his shirt. "Indeed you are. And soon you'll be _under_ me."

Morticia let her head roll back. "Mmm... I'd like that."

Gomez bit his lip and climbed on top of her, biting her neck and drawing blood. The crimson liquid ran down her cleavage. "Darling..." Morticia moaned, enjoying the blissfully painful senesation. "You really know how to treat a lady on her birthday."

Gomez licked the blood from her cleavage and began to remove her nightgown. "You know perfectly well, Tish, that I will forever treat you like this. Even if it's _not_ your birthday."

Morticia kissed him. "Why don't you skip the complementary hotel breakfast and instead, eat something you're going to enjoy?"

Gomez groaned. "You're a genious."

"I'm well aware."

As the lovers began to recreate the previous night, Rosemary, Alistair and Esmeralda were finishing up talking in the next hotel room over.

"We thought you were aware of Gomez's love for Morticia." Rosemary tried to explain to a heartbroken Esmeralda.

"No." Esmeralda blew her nose. "I'm such a fool! I beleived Ophelia over my other one... even though my gut told me something was up, I couldn't bare to think my eldest could decieve us in such a way."

"Esmeralda, don't be to hard on yourself." Alistair put a gentle hand on her knee. "I know that it's hard to accept. Believe me, when Fester ran off, we-"

Rosemary then gave Alistiar a stern look and shook her head.

Alistiar hesitated. "Well, let's just say we felt similar to the way you do now."

Esmeralda shook her head. "No... I'm just like everybody else in this wretched city. I'm so sorry that my daughter caused this trouble, this confusion. I'm sorry that I was ever a part of it."

Rosemary sighed. "You are not like them, Esmeralda. Besides, you aren't even Christian."

Esmeralda shook her head. "I wish I was."

"Why?" Alistair asked.

"Because..." Esmeralda held back her tears. "My husband passed two years ago. I miss him terribly. I wish... oh I wish I could believe that he was watching over me." She almost cried. Almost. "And, and of course, the girls." She added, hastily.

Rosemary nodded. "What has this horrible city done to you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Esmeralda, don't get it twisted. He _is_ watching over you. Of course there's an afterlife, we would know. On so many occasions, we've seen the ghost of our relatives-"

"Spirits." Alistair added.

"Apparitions. When, my grandparents died, I got to talk to them at the funeral. Some spirits just take longer han others to show themselves. The time will come." Rosemary explained.

Esmeralda let a single tear fall. "You don't know how much that means to me."

Rosemary gave a warm smile. "Esmeralda, are you a witch as well?"

Esmeralda smiled. "Oh, yes. I'm the family witch. Morticia's good at the craft, true, but she doesn't practice it as often as I do. She is, however, remarkable at holding séances."

Alistair and Rosemary shared an excited look.

"Is she now?" Rosemary asked.

Esmeralda suddenly felt uncomfortable. She straightened up. "Very much so."

Rosemary nodded. "You see, Esmeralda, every year we hold a séance to try to contact Fester. Gomez was just heartbroken the night he left and we immideatley tried to contact him. Now, it's become an annual event. I, too, induldge myself in a little bit of witchcraft now and then but nothing like you or your daughter. Do you think your daughter could hold our family séances?"

Esmeralda gulped. "Really?"

"Well, of course, we'll need _you_ to recite an incantation or two. Afterall, you _are_ family." Rosemary said.

Esmeralda felt like she was going to burst. "I'd love to-" She paused and shook her head. "No, I'm afraid I won't have to much time for séances. I'll have to find an apartment, there's no sense living in such a big house with no people."

"What? We were under the impression you were coming to live with us." Alistair told her.

"Well, thank you. I'd love to but... after what I did to Morticia, she wouldn't want me living with her."

Rosemary nodded. "Don't make the same mistake our son did with Fester."

Esmeralda didn't understand. "I'm sorry?"

"Talk to her." Was all Rosemary said.

Esmeralda nodded and hugged the pair. "Thank you for accepting me into your wonderful family."

"Oh, please, what choice did we have? Your a perfect fit." Rosemary smiled at her.

Esmeralda smiled back and walked to the door of Gomez and Morticia's hotel room. She knocked on the door. "Morticia?" She heard nothing. Oh, how awful she felt. She knocked again. "Morticia, dear? It's mother. I'm so sorry, I..." She shook her head and knocked once more. "Morticia?" She was about to give up, but decided to just go in. "I _have_ to talk to you, dear." She then opened the door, gently, soundlessly closing it behind her and walked into the bedroom.

 _"Gomez!"_

Esmeralda heard her daughter gasp. She turned around and saw a truly scarring sight. There was her daughter, wearing nothing but... wearing nothing, and Gomez, right in the middle of a sexual sight she never intended to see. _Ever._

Quickly, she threw her hands over her eyes, feeling vomit in her throat. _"Oh my God!"_ She yelled, before she could stop herself.

Morticia immideatley opened her eyes and looked toward the door. _"Mother!"_ She was trying to figure out a way to cover herself.

Gomez raised an eyebrow. "Mother?"

Morticia gestured toward the door. "Mother."

Gomez looked toward the door and jumped. _"Mother!"_

Esmeralda was still averting her eyes, breathing heavily. " _I am, so sorry! I-I-I... uh..."_ She backed into the door. _"I'll come back later, I'll move away, that's... drastic, sorry. I... I-goodbye."_ Esmeralda then ran out of the room and slammed the door, trying desperately to unsee what she just saw.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Morticia and Gomez parted.

Morticia sat up, flushed. "Gomez, I thought you locked the door."

Gomez nodded. "As did I. It appears, in the heat of the moment, I..."

Morticia kissed him, quickly. "No, it's alright, darling. I'm just afraid we gave my poor mother a lifetime full of memories."

Gomez sighed and finished putting on his black pants. "Darling, I'll go into the kitchen and make you some tea."

"Yes, mon cher, I think that would be best." Morticia nodded.

Gomez kissed her and walked into the kitchen.

Morticia was looking for her nightgown but all she could find was a silk, short, black, lingerie-type dress. She decided it was better than nothing and sat on the bed, but decided it was the last thing her mother wanted to look at, and instead sat in an armchair. "Come in, mother!" Morticia called.

Esmeralda, shaken up, walked into the room again. _"Holy shit, Morticia, do you want people to see you like this, this early?"_ She slammed the door behind her and sat in the armchair across from her daughter. "Don't you have a robe or... _something?"_ She asked.

 _"Mother."_ Morticia crossed her legs. "Is there something you wanted to talk to me about."

"Yes, _now._ " Esmeralda shook her head. "I... I... so you and Gomez seem to be happy together."

"We are." Morticia nodded. "Mother, I appologize at the ill timing of the situation, but for heaven's sake, _why_ didn't you knock?"

"I did." Esmeralda said. "I just assumed that when you didn't answer, it meant you were in the bathroom or something."

"You didn't... hear us?"

"Well, it's not like I was listening for you two!" Esmeralda yelled, defensively. She calmed down. "Happy birthday, Morticia."

Morticia remained calm. "Thank you, mother."

"Morticia... I wish you wouldn't wear such things."

"Mother, it isn't like I walked to the _7/ll_ looking like this. And besides, I believe you came here to talk about something else."

Esmeralda sighed, situating herself. "Yes, I did. Morticia, I came to appologize." She cried. "I am _so sorry_ that I _ever_ thought that you would commit that sort of a crime."

"I see."

"Forgive me?"

Morticia wanted to, but there was much more that angered her than the latest mess she and Gomez had sorted out. "Mother, I don't think you realize just what you've done."

Esmeralda shook her head. "I was afraid of this. Morticia, believe me, I am _very_ sorry."

"I know you are. But that doesn't erase what you did. You could have talked to me before calling the police and allowing Ophelia to tell them I was armed and dangerous." Morticia stated.

"I know. But I had to think about Ophelia as well-"

"I know." Morticia cut her off. "But there's a difference between thinking about both of us and thinking about one of us."

"I _always_ think about both of you."

Morticia shook her head. "No, mother, you don't. I was just as heartbroken as you were when father died-"

"Morticia, you know I _hate talking about-_ "

"But, I did what I had to do. I pulled together and thought about what father would want for me, for all of us. I didn't lean on anyone. I cried on my own, I greived by myself. I couldn't cry to you because you were depressed. You would cry to me, _every single day._ I watched you deteriorate. His death _destroyed_ you. Ophelia sat on her ass and complained about her car payments. The week he died, I took a job as a cocktail waitress to support the family. You stayed in bed for three months before you took a job. I thought you were dying. I couldn't talk to you. I couldn't tell you how uncomfortable I was when those men at the bar would _grope me or try to kiss me, or worse_. I handeled myself and put them in their place. But it would have been nice to have a mother who I could cry with, or to. I didn't have that. You _did._ Mother, I am so sorry for what his death did to you, but you used to have some sort of a relationship with me and you took a sledgehammer to what was left of it. Red flag after red flag, you stayed on Ophelia's side, without _once_ talking to me. What would happen if I had ended up in prison?"

Esmeralda shook her head. "I don't know." She replied, sheepishly.

"Ophelia wasn't planning to give you or me or anyone, _a cent_ of the money she would receive as Gome'z wife. She lied to you. If I would have ended up in prison, you would have been alone. You would not have anyone to help you, anyone to earn extra money."

"Is that what you believe I think you are to me?" Esmeralda asked. _"A cash cow?"_

"Not a cow." Morticia replied.

Esmeralda broke inside. " _I am so sorry, darling!_ No, Morticia, that isn't it at all. I appreciate _everything_ you have done for this family. I appreciate the selflessness, and the money, true. But that isn't why I love you. You are my _daughter_ , Morticia. You remind me so much of your father... _and I miss you father terribly._ " She burst into tears.

Morticia looked down. "I miss him, too, mother. But you were all I had left... and when I needed you most, you used me."

Esmeralda felt awful. "Morticia, I love you. _I love you and I'm so sorry. Please, please, forgive me._ "

There was a long period of silence.

"I remember when you were just a baby." Esmeralda broke the silence. "A _baby_ , baby. You were just born. We were admiring your beautiful eyes. Your father and I didn't see a cute little blue twinkle like we did with Ophelia. We saw a darkness in your deep brown eyes. We saw the most brilliant, beautiful darkness in the world. It wasn't evil, it was wonderful. Your eyes showcased all of the shades of grey in the world. They made your father cry, and he didn't cry easily. In fact, he only ever cried when it came to you. Anyway, you had extremely pale skin, and you were very underweight. The doctors thought you were going to die. Actually, they thought you were dead at first because you didn't cry when you came out. You didn't move at all. Finally, you moved. You gently pushed the doctor's hand away before he could hit your bottom. Everyone knew you were smart. I thought you weren't going to make it but, your father said you were too much like him, so you would pull through. He was right. You scared all the other babies in the nursery but you never cried. The only time you ever screamed was when you weren't wearing black. Then, they would put you in something black and you would calm down. Anyway, you were so different than all the other babies that feared you. When ever you held up your hand, every baby in the nursery would stop crying.

"The nurse brought you to me. It was the first time I got to hold you. You were so light, so perfect. You had this beautiful thick head of raven hair, like your father. The nurse seemed mesmerized by you. _Ms. Frump, we've found that she isn't sick. But whatever will you name her? She looks like a corpse._ The nurse said. I took this as a compliment, and your father blushed. I heard your father say the name, _Morticia_. Well, I wanted to call you Andora but as you know it became your middle name. But you would always call for your father when you needed something and you weren't yet a day old. I bragged about you all day, every day. Whenever your Aunt Helda would say that her son accomplished some glorious feat, I was always able to top it with a story about you. You recited _The Tell Tale Heart _on your first day.

"Morticia, I always knew you were special. I also knew you were incredibly stoic. You reminded me of your father more and more as time passed. When he died, I treated you like I treated him. I cried to you, and made you a thirty eight year old. I shouldn't have forced you to grow up that fast, no matter how mature you were." Esmeralda moved the chair closer, so that her feet were touching her daughter's. She took her hands and looked her in the eyes. "And I will never forgive myself for that. I'm going to love you no matter how you chose to live your life." She stood and began to walk away. "Even if it's too late for me to be a part of it."

Morticia looked up. "Mother, wait!" She ran to her and embraced her, crying. "All I want is a mother."

"All I want is a daughter." Esmeralda hugged her back.

"It's settled then." Morticia pulled away, controlling herself. "We know our roles."

"Oh, darling, before I go, your now responsible for holding all future family séances!" She exited.

"Mother-"

"Goodbye!" She closed the door.

Morticia got dresed for the day after another round of getting undressed. Then, the family drove home through the growing rainstorm.

Lurch insisted on opening the door. He then let Mr. Addams and Ms. Frump inside, and Morticia's eyes lit up.

"Who arranged all of this?" She asked, breathless. She just adored the gothic décor, the black streamers, the blood dripping from the walls and all of the skulls and lit candelabras.

Lurch groaned and smiled. He waved. "I did." He said, in his slow, zombie-like voice.

Morticia walked up to Lurch and embraced him. Lurch picked her up in the hug, as even the long legged Ms. Frump was still over a foot shorter than he was.

"Thank you, Lurch!"

Thing then jumped on her shoulder and pointed at the banner hanging from the ceiling. It read, _Welcome Home, Morticia!_

Morticia held back tears. "Thank you, Thing."

Thing then jumped onto Lurch's shoulder and Lurch bowed. He handed her a card.

Morticia opened it. It was black and had fancy, crimson stationary writing. _Dear Ms. Frump, will you please be our new mistress? We love you and wish you and Gomez the very worst. But, if your going to live here, we hope you'll put up with us. Signed, Lurch Thing._

Morticia nodded. "Yes, of course I will. That is, if you'll have me?"

Lurch nodded and Thing gave the _okay_ symbol.

"Then yes."

Gomez then walked up to her and held her. "Morticia, would you like to continue what we started in our bedroom?"

Morticia nodded. "Qui, mon amour."

Gomez then walked her up the flights of stairs, admiring the decorations and obvious effort that had gone into them.

Gomez realized that their pet-names for one another were painted on the door.

"Well, now everyone will know which room is our's." Gomez smiled and walked in. He laughed. "Or rather, which room to stay out of."

Morticia smiled.

He then saw that all of the lights were off, and there were blood red and black roses scattered all over. Lit candles were surrounding the bed. Whips, chains and a few other devices were propped against the wall.

Gomez closed the door and layed Morticia on the bed. "My darling, I have something for you."

Morticia raised an eyebrow. "Alright."

Gomez reached onto the nightstand and handed his beloved a beautiful crimson card with black writing. It read:

 _My dear Tish,_

 _These past couple of hectic weeks are ones I would not trade for the world. When I told you that you were so beautiful, pale and mysterious, that nobody even looked at the corpse, I was not exaggerating. You intimidated me when I first saw you, cara mia. I knew then that I was going to steal your heart just as you had stolen mine. I feel that I've succeeded. Thank you, darling, for being the most wonderful thing that has ever happened and will ever happen to me. Happy birthday, my love._

Morticia kissed him. "Thank you, darling. It's a beautiful card."

Gomwz crawled on top of her, ready to finish what they had started earlier. "And an even more beautiful woman reading it." He paused. "Read the rest."

"There's more?"

Gomez nodded. "Actually, I'll read it." He cleared his throat. "Happy birthday, Tish. I've decided that I'm going to take you on a seven month extended vacation. We'll be visiting a new place every month. We'll be stopping by the most haunted gorunds in Italy, Spain, Salem, Russia, Texas, the Stanley Hotel in California, and lastly, Paris. I've already taken care of flights, passports, etc.. I love you, and hope this makes for a decent birthday present."

Morticia was estactic. "And after we come back, we'll get married?"

"Friday, October 13th." Gomez kissed her neck. "How does that sound?"

"It sounds like I'm going to marry a wonderful man that I will thank both heaven and hell for every time I look at him."

"Oh, Tish..." Gomez blew out the candle by the bed. He then made sure to think over whether he locked the door or not. They'd be up until their departure at seven pm tomorrow.


	19. Macbre Love

If anyone wants to write a fanfic about their pre-honeymon/six-month-vacation, please comtact me. I don't think I could do it justice so if anyone wants to write about that, PM me!

Morticia had had the most wonderful six months of her life. The time they spent in Italy was magical. The cemtary they visited was indeed haunted, and Morticia was able to contact many-a-spirit. Their time in Spain was spent visiting these beautiful old churches that were secretly used by cults and satanists. Morticia could go on forever about Salem, it's where her mother was from. She came from a long line of witches, and her Aunt Calpernia was burned as a witch in 1706. They visited her grave and the town square where Calpernia had danced naked. She also was the first female witch to ever enslave a minister.

And now, they were back. It was October 13th, and both the bride and her bridesmaids were getting ready. It was in a mere three hours.

Esmeralda had spent all of her time fashioning a dress for Morticia to wear. She needed something to distract her from the news that Ophelia had been in a phsyc ward for the last six months and was being released today.

The Rosemary spent her time making the matching veil, and Lurch sent out all of the invitations that Thing had hand-written.

They had arrived home two days after Gomez's nineteenth birthday, which Morticia had treated as an extremely special occasion, and they had gone out drinking and dancing the whole night.

Morticia got to meet all of Gomez's friends at the bachelor party, which was held in the basement last night. Unfortunately, all of Gomez's friend immidiatley tried to steal her from him upon seeing her. Fortunatley, this made him jealous, and he took her upstairs right after the bachelor party. Morticia was still feeling the effects of that night.

The women were all over her fiancé at the bachelorette party, but Morticia contained her jealousy until that night. She was certain that he still had a few red marks. She just hoped they would clear up before the wedding.

She smiled to herself at the memory as she finished applying her red wine lipstick. She always did an incredible makeup job. Her eyeshadow was a black smokey eye, to match her dress. Her eyeliner was perfect and her mascara intensified her already lengthy eyelashes. The dark beauty stared in the mirror. She adored both the dress and the veil that had been made for her.

The dress swept the floor, and was tight but gave her a bit of leg room. It was the darkest shade of black Morticia had ever seen. It was silky, and quite low cut in a v-neck. The dress had long sleeves which were lacey and had intricate gothic designs embedded in them. The left side of her midnight black hair was pinned to the back and fashioned over her right shoulder with the rest of her hair. She wore a medium-length black veil that was attatched to her hair with a blood red rose. She wore black tights, and her black gothic heels were nearly four inches and had elegant ankle straps. Her long nails were painted their usual crimson colour.

Her four cousins, Beatrix, Delilah, Ruby and Anastasia were her bridesmaids, along with her two close friends, Demonia and Drucilla. They had known eachother for quite some time, the two girls and Morticia. They were all witches. her closest friend was Hailie. They had been friends since age five. She wished so badly that she would have gone to prom. She could have protected her. She shook the memory out of her head and called for her matron of honor.

"Coming, Morticia!" Hailie was the only one in the wedding besides the bride, w ho was an expert in heels. Hailie was five foot five, and her style was very much steampunk. Her hair was a vibrant shade of red, and nobody could fathom how that was her natural hair colour. Her eyes were a light brown and her skin was fair white. She was a skinny girl, not much of a figure. Nevertheless, she was beautiful. She ran to her friend's side. "Yea?"

"What do you think?" Morticia asked.

Hailie wanted to cry. "I think it isn't fair that you're getting married at eighteen, to a hot Spanish guy that I could only have in a wet dream, and her I am, up 'till twelve am, watching They Way We Were in my triple x T-shirt with a bag full of cheetos in my hair."

Morticia felt like laughing out loud. "Hailie, you'll find somebody. You'll find a guy who's going to fall to his knees before you, who's going to worship and ador you."

"Yea, that isn't what my mom said."

Morticia sighed. "What did she say this time?"

"That true love isn't real, and all men are pigs and should burn in hell."

"She's having trouble getting over the divorce?" Morticia asked.

"She said she's dying." Haile replied, nonchalantly.

"Oh, Halie, I'm so sorry." Morticia put an ice cold hand on her arm.

"It's cool. It's honestly just the spice talking."

"She's still...?" Morticia felt awful about what happened to Hailie's mom. The poor woman was on a complete downward spiral, she had been for the past four years.

"Yea. I mean it's either the spice or the alcohol. Anyway, in all seriousness, Morticia, you look wonderful. It's the most beautiful you've ever looked."

Morticia hugged her. "Thank you, dear." Her stomach had been flipping and flopping all morning. "Do you like him?" She asked, referring to Gomez.

Ruby, a five foot eight, skinny African-American girl -she was adopted, but treated no different than anyone else- with black, long, straight hair walked in. "Like him?" She rolled her eyes. "Mm-mm, with those muscles? He fine."

Morticia smiled with her eyes. "Thank you, Ruby."

"Nah, thank you. Imma be comin' to yo house all the time."

"I'm looking foward to it." Morticia responded.

"Well, speaking of fine," Hailie began and looked in the mirror, smoothing down her dress. "We look good."

The bridesmaids' dresses were black, only a slightly lighter shade of black than Morticia's. They were hi-low dresses, and the back extended past their ankles. They were low cut in sweetheart necklines and silky. They wore four inch, open-toed matching high heels and their hair was pinned up with black rose designed pins. Their makeup was dark, to match the dresses. They wore black lace chokers and their nails were painted black.

Ruby pushed Hailie aside and looked in the mirror. "You're damn right."

Delilah had thin, wavy auburn hair and green eyes. Her skin was a similar colour to Hailie's only a bit paler. She was stick thin and had freckles on her shoulders. She was descirbed by her family as a whisp of a girl. "Who made these dresses?" She asked in her light, airy voice.

"Mrs. Addams did." Morticia replied. "Lovely, aren't they?"

Delilah nodded. "Oh, yes."

Beatrix, five foot six, beautiful and plus size was the only one with sunny blonde hair. She had a heart of gold and sass for days. "Morticia, the wedding's soon!" She grabbed her arms and did a little dance. "You excited?"

Morticia was indeed. "Oh, yes, very much. I can't wait until I can really call myself Mrs. Addams."

Demonia and Drucilla stumbled in. They were identical twins. They had fair skin, hair the colour of dark chocolate and milky brown eyes. They were the exact same weight, both one hundred twenty seven pounds. They were even the exact same height, standing at five foot five and a half.

Anastasia then waltzed into the room. "Morticia, would you be a dear and help me with my eyeshadow?" Anastasia was always needing help with something. She was five foot ten and a tad underweight. She had wavy, dyed purple-pink hair and crystal blue eyes. She looked like the life of the party, but she only lived up to her exterior image when she was intoxicated.

"Here, I gotchu." Ruby took the dark eyeshadow and applied it to Anastasia's hooded eyelids. "Fuckin' hooded eyelids." She snapped her teeth.

"...Thanks." Anastasia replied.

Hailie had gone downstairs and came back up to the master bedroom with eight wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. She looked exhausted as she poured the ladies drinks.

"Ya'll need an elevator in this damn house." Ruby remarked.

"We can manage." Morticia took a wine glass and handed it to Ruby.

"Yea, but we can't."

The bridal party laughed.

Beatrix raised her glass. "Shit, we better hurry up and toast. Tish is gonna be getting hitched in less than three hours!"

"Aye, Bea, only her beau aloud to call her Tish." Ruby corrected.

Beatrix chuckled. "Just shut up and drink."

"To Morticia!" They all toasted.

Gomez was a bundle of nerves but his best friend and best man, Enrique, was trying to calm him.

"These excited nerves or oh shit I'm actually going through with this, nerves?" Enrique asked.

"Excited nerves, Enrique." Gomez slapped his back.

"Fuck. I was going to steal her the minute you had second thoughts."

Gomez laughed. "Bastard."

Enrique took a swig of his drink. "The one and only."

His friends, Fredrick, Juan Diego and Esteban, and his cousins, Alejandro, Santiago and Danté were his groomsman. They were in the same room, adjusting their ties and combing their hair.

"She's a beautiful woman, Gomez." Enrique said. "And that outfit... es muy guapo." He whistled.

Gomez raised his eyebrows. "Gracias, senior." He laughed.

He wore a black tuxedo with a crimson undershirt, a black tie and black dress shoes. A thorny, blood red rose poked out of his pocket. "Oh, Enrique, I'm such a lucky man."

"Damn right, you are!" Alejandro yelled from the opposite side of Gomez's old bedroom.

He heard whistles, hoots and hollars and noticed a shit-ton of alcohol near his friends and cousins.

"I think it's time you all stopped drinking!" He yelled back.

"Look at him, he's finally becoming a man!" Juan Diego chugged down a beer. "Will you still have time for us horny, single shlubs when your married?"

"Well, he can't hit up the strip joints with us anymore, if that's what you mean!" Esteban answered.

"Aye, let the old boy answer!" Juan Diego replied. "Can you?"

"No, I'll forever an blissfully unhappy married man!" Gomez responded.

"Damn!" Fredrick stood up.

The groomsman wore the same color suits as the bridesmaids, and crimson undershirts with thorny, black roses poking out of their pokets. They had on black dress shoes.

Alejandro, Santiago and Danté raised thier glasses. "A toast!" They cheered.

The rest of the groomsman, Enrique and Gomez joined in.

"To life, liberty and the persuit of happiness!" Alejandro cheered.

Gomez chuckled and shook his head. "You're drunk!"

"Isn't everyone?" Alejandro was slumping, being held up by his brothers.

"To Gomez!" Enrique proclaimed.

"To Gomez!" They all cheered.

It was now time for the wedding. It was to be held in the Addams' cemetary. Nearly the entire Addams clan and over half of the Frumps attended. It was the biggest wedding of the year... it was, come to think of it, the only wedding of the year.

Lurch played a dark, funeral-march-esque version of the wedding march. It was from his hometown in Ebony, Transylvania. It was called The Transylvanian Wedding March.

Morticia looked into Gomez's eyes the entire time she walked to the alter made of black marble.

Gomez felt his stomach tighten. Morticia was breathtaking, and that dress... he began to breath hard.

Morticia's four year old cousin, Victoria and Gomez's five year old cousin, Lana were the flower girls. They scattered black and blood red roses across the crimson velvet isle.

Walking behind the pair, was the ring bearer, Victoria's twin brother, James. He held a black velvet pillow. On the pillow, was Thing, dressed up in a fancy black glove. He held the two rings, soon to be on his mistress and master, forever.

Cousin Itt went through the typical speech, in perfect gibberish.

Morticia was indeed a true Addams, for she understood every word.

Gomez cleared his throat. "Cara mia..." He took her hands. "Ever since I laid eyes on you, I knew I wanted you to be mine. Then I got to know you, and I realized even more so that I could not live without you. You're an enchantress, Morticia. You bewitched me and I proposed the very night we met. When I look into your eyes, I see intense beauty and much darkness. All I want is to look into those eyes every single day, and to kiss those beautiful red lips, to touch that snow white skin... but amidst your beauty, is your wonderful personality. You carry yourself with such elegance that the queen of England would be jealous. You care more about the right of everyone to express themselves however they want to more than anybody I've ever known. You are talented, in everything you try. You have a strong and beautiful heart, and mine beats only for you. My only goal is to make you passionatley and blissfully unhappy for the rest of our existence. I am deeply in love with you, Morticia Andora Addams. I worship you, I adore you, I will do anything for you. You ask for the universe in a box, it's your's, cara mia. All I desire, all I need, is you, and your unhappiness."

Morticia let a tear run down her cheek. "Mon cher... the moment I heard you laugh, I was captivated. I knew I wanted to hear it every day. Your the only person I've ever truly opened up to since my father died. You are the only man who has ever been able to hold my heart and do what you'd like with it. Gomez, I already knew you were incredibly handsome, but then I found that you were funny, and intelligent, and captivating... I could trust you. That was something I couldn't say about any other man. You were able to open me up and didn't ever doubt me, even when nothing made sense and it would have been safer to give up. You never turned your back on me once. You made me a promise that you would always fight with me, and when I held you to it, you didn't dissapoint, you thrived. You made me blissfully unhappy the moment you kissed me for the first time. You could never do anything to make me doubt you or truly angry at you. You've taken my heart, and I believe I've indeed returned the favor. You are the only one I desire, the only one I need for the rest of my existence. You are my reason. My heart is your's, Gomez Florencia Addams, I trust you with it, and I always will."

Tears were welling up in Gomez's eyes.

Cousin Itt babbled, seemingly moved by their sentiments.

The couple easily slipped the rings on eachother's fingers.

Gomez then grabbed Morticia, dipping her into their most passionate kiss yet.

There was crying from nearly everyone in attendance, even Lurch.

The wedding pictures were taken in the cemetary, and were just beautiful. Most of them were of Gomez and Morticia showing their love for one another, but they got a few of the bridal party and groomsman.

The reception was held in the grand hall, and the lovers tangoed and waltzed the night away. Morticia was reluctant to leave Gomez's side, and he was reluctant to leave her's, but they decided to greet their respective family members for a few minutes and come back for more dancing, and more of eachother.

Morticia had been walking for quite some time and walked back out to the cemetary, to see if she could find any aunts or uncles.

Instead, she found the last person she was expecting to see. She gasped. "Ophelia."

"Hello, Morticia." Ophelia was wearing a fancy black dress and black heels. She had a fishnet veil over her eyes and black gloves, so as to not draw attention to herself. "So... I see you and Gomez have married." She said, in an attempt at breaking the ice.

Morticia rolled her eyes. "I'm very sorry, Ophelia. But I believe it was you who said, Make sure he loves madame Frump." Morticia paused, taking this moment in. "Well, I don't know why you were so angry. Because that's exactly what I did. And not you, not anyone can ever try and take us away from eachother, ever again."

Ophelia tried again, praying to God she could get some money, or sympathy or something out of her. "You look beautiful, Morticia. I mean, prettier than you have ever looked."

Morticia said nothing, but gave a small, "Hmm."

Ophelia kept talking. "Prettier than me even." She paused, then looked sorrowful. "I guess mother really hates me now."

Morticia shook her head, refusing to pity Ophelia. "Oh, don't be ridiculous. Mother doesn't hate you."

Ophelia smiled, looking up at her sister, hoping her plan was working.

"She's just all but disowned you. Ophelia, I refuse to hate you. It's what you want. But that doesn't mean I ever want to see you pull anything like that again, with anyone."

"I won't, I promise." Ophelia held up her hand, as if under oath.

Morticia nodded. "Oh, I know you won't, dear. Becuase your going to stay the hell out of our life. I don't care where you go, or what you do. But I've learned, Ophelia, that blood isn't always thicker than water. Apparently, you think blood is no thicker than a cheap plastic bag, floating down the street."

"Fine. You've won."

"I did. But I didn't win Gomez. Gomez was mine and I was his the moment we looked into eachother's eyes. I didn't win this house, this house is lovely and a beautiful peace of history I am now a part of. The only thing I won, was this battle. This battle for my freedom, for my life. And even that, Ophelia, could not compare to the joy I feel when I look at what I've earned. I wanted that for you, once. When I thought even one tiny part of you cared about me. You don't care about anyone, Ophelia, and you barely even care about yourself. You want one thing, men and money."

Ophelia didn't know what to say. "What are you saying?" She finally asked, forcefully bringing herself to tears.

"I'm saying, dear, go pack your bags, dress yourself up and find yourself a sugar daddy." And with that, she walked away to go find her beautiful reason for existing, leaving Ophelia to walk through the rain, tears of humiliation streaming down her face as she did.

She never was good at handeling rejection.


	20. His Only

_**(Almost the entirety of this chapter was written by the the one and only, herecstacy. Please read her fabulous stories, if you don't do so already. They are brilliant and always leave me feeling some kind of strong emotion(s). She is one of my absolute favorite writers on , and I thank her for agreeing to be a part of, In Love and Passion.)**_

The last hour of celebrations had passed in a blur, full of fond farewells and heartfelt thanks to the clans who had come from far and wide to witness this dark enchantress unite her soul with that of her passionate Castilian beau.

Following the upset with Ophelia, Morticia had sought out Gomez, making good on her vows to keep the honesty between them alive. He had frowned, pulling his new bride into his arms, and making a mental note to see to his meddling sister-in-law once and for all. Just as soon as his honeymoon was over. For the next two weeks, he wanted to think of nothing but Morticia and her pleasure. He had gently reassured her that no harm to come to either of them now, and to put Ophelia from her mind.

As the last of the Addams' visitors departed, Lurch and Thing had waved off the couple's offers of help. Thing had signed to his new mistress, bidding her to retire for her wedding night, while Lurch had fixed Gomez with a meaningful stare. They hadn't needed telling twice, and Gomez had swept his bride into his arms with ease as he carried her through the open French windows and into the mansion, there to spend her first night as mistress of all she surveyed. Lurch closed the heavy oak door behind them, and suddenly they were alone. As they approached the great staircase, Gomez gently returned Morticia to her feet, slipping an arm around her waist as he turned her to face him.

"My own dear husband."

Morticia raised her left hand to caress the cheek of her new spouse, tilting her head as she admired the black diamond ring that now labelled her as an Addams.

"My beautiful encantadora," Gomez replied, grasping at her hand and bringing it forcefully to his lips.

"Darling, take me to bed?" Morticia purred, gazing up through her long lashes. Gomez swallowed hard as she bit her lip, and he had to fight to keep his voice steady.

"Not yet, cara mia. I have a gift for you. Come," he gestured towards the solid wood trap door in the floor, which was usually covered by their living bearskin was now exposed, and Gomez sent a quiet message of thanks to Lurch, for that ever-observant butler had clearly prepared the way earlier in the day. Judging by the glow around the edges of the trapdoor, Lurch had even found time in which to head down in the dungeon below and light candles in the ornate lanterns that lined the walls.

Ever the gentleman, Gomez heaved open the door, and offered his hand to Morticia, who cast a questioning glance his way.

"Come, cara mia. It is all for you," Gomez said simply, and he guided his beloved down the stone steps into the heart of the Addams' dungeon. The trapdoor sprung shut above their heads, ensuring their privacy and isolation, and Morticia gasped as she gazed around in wonder and growing excitement.

The dungeon itself was hewn from rough stone, and gently lit by candlelight, ensuring far reaches were lost in ominous shadow. In the centre of the room lay a king-sized bed of nails, wilted rose petals strewn between the sharp points which glittered in the soft light.

Stood back against the wall, half in shadow, was an imposing metal wheel of pain, complete with leather straps fixed to hold at the ankles and wrists. Morticia couldn't suppress the shiver of excitement that ran down her spine as she gazed wide-eyed around her new playground. Gomez tightened his grip on her waist, and leaned to whisper in her ear, calling her attention to the wooden stretching rack which took up much of the far side of the room. Glancing up, Morticia noticed the ceiling lined with metal chains, and in a rough-hewn fireplace at the far end, the warm glow of flames, heating up a row of iron pokers. A large ornate mirror stood against one wall.

Finally, to complete the paradisical image before her, Morticia raised an approving eyebrow as she noticed tucked away in a shadowy corner, an inviting pile of large cushions and fur blankets, the ultimate place in which the newly-wed couple would collapse, spent and tangled in each others' embrace, after they had taken their fill of the pains and pleasures their wedding night promised to them.

"You did this for me?" Morticia turned her head to smile gratefully at her husband, her red-painted nails digging in to his arm as she fought to quell the urge to fall to her knees and pleasure him right there and then.

"For you, cara mia. Anything your heart desires..."

"All my heart desires is you, mon cher. All my body desires, is you..." Morticia's voice was low, barely a whisper as she slipped her hands behind Gomez's neck and pulled him close, pressing her lips against his, her passionate kiss telling him all the things she was unable to summon the words to say herself.

Fingers fumbled with buttons, and when even this took too long, expensive fabrics were ripped and torn from their bodies as they sought to remove the unwelcome barriers between hands and skin. Morticia's lips traced across Gomez's neck and shoulders, spurred on by his oaths of love and lust.

"Mi corazón, te deseo... te quiero, eres divina..."

By now, Gomez was fully undressed, and keen to bring Morticia to the same state as quickly as possible. He was taken by surprise as he made to remove the lace and silk wedding night lingerie from his bride, and was rewarded with a sharp bite against his shoulder and a hiss of admonishment.

"Later..." Morticia demanded, pulling back to meet his gaze with fire flashing in her dark brown eyes. Gomez let out a groan of frustration, feeling fully powerless, unable to hide his evident arousal at the vision before him. Morticia moved back away from her lover, quite deliberately shrouding herself half in shadow, allowing Gomez only brief glances of perfect pale skin, marred by black lace, never dropping her gaze from his. She was in complete control, and they both knew it.

"Tish..." Gomez's voice broke, betraying his want for this dark temptress.

Morticia permitted herself a contented smile as she beckoned Gomez to join her, trailing her other hand over the curve of the wheel of pain. A raised brow was all the instruction she needed to give, and Gomez willingly submitted himself to Morticia's whim, allowing her to tie his wrists and ankles with leather straps. She was clearly greatly enjoying the hold she had over him, yet punctuated her power over him with gentle kisses as she allowed her hands to roam over his body, eliciting gentle groans from her lover's lips. As Gomez lurched forward against his restraints, teeth bared in order to bite against her neck, Morticia lightly stepped away, shaking her head in rebuke.

"Now you will have to wait," she smiled, turning away as she began to swing her hips to an unheard melody, slowly easing the sparse remaining lace lingerie from her body, casually casting it to the floor, encouraged by the increase in ragged breathing and whispered pleas from her captive lover.

"Patience, mon amour," Morticia soothed, crossing back to stand in front of her beloved. There was no way for Gomez to hide his frustrations and desire, his body betrayed him, and Morticia decided to show him mercy, at long last. She bought her had to his cheek, raising his head to place a tender kiss upon his lips, before sinking to her knees. Gomez cried out, bucking against his straps in his desperation to tangle his hands in Morticia's hair, unsure he would make it to the end of the night before passing out from pure pleasure.

The rest of the Addams' wedding night passed by in a haze of pain and delight, their cries of ecstasy ringing echoing throughout the dungeon, and a floor above. Lurch shook his head as he made a mental note to soundproof his master's new playroom once they had left for their honeymoon.

Morticia and her lover had played with an array of the toys he had given to her. He promised her that tomorrow, he would reestablish his own dominance and strap her to the wheel -which appeared to be her favorite out of all of their devices- tomorrow night. She was most assuredly looking foward to it.

Gomez now sat by the crackling, orange fire with his darling one, whom was absolutely exhausted. Gomez held her in his arms, tightly, almost as if he were afraid that letting her go would break her. He examined a few of the marks she had left on his body, the most recent being the lashes across his abdomen. He then traced the bite marks he had left on Morticia's wrists.

He rocked back and forth, slowly, and sang, softly to her. He sang the song that they had claimed as their's, the very first time they heard it. It was called, Goodbye Sweet Sanity by Three Black Birds.

Morticia sighed, happily and leaned closer into her husband. "Thank you, mon amour." Her voice was barely audible, little more than a whisper.

"Querida, for what?" Gomez asked, unsure of what she was referring to.

"For everything." She responded, reaching back and stroking his cheek. "For this room, for this life, for taking care of me... for everything. I just always want you to remember how thankful I am for you, Gomez. I may have changed you, but you saved me."

Gomez raised an eyebrow. "Saved you?"

"From a life of lonliness, from growing old and bitter by myself. Just remember that, Gomez." She pulled the blanket that was draped over the both of them, closer to her. "Remember that even though I am nowhere near as vocal as you are, how much I do adore you and all that you do for me, all that you are."

Gomez smiled. God, he loved this woman. He loved her more than words could ever possibly describe, no matter how hard he tried. He could feel her drifting off, and gently massaged her neck and shoulders. "Cara mia..." Gomez kissed her.

"Mon cher..." Morticia closed her eyes, and pulled Gomez's strong arms around her, feeleing safer than ever.

He then felt his only's breathing begin to slow into a definite pattern, and knew she was drifting off.

So, at long last, as the fire in the mantle finally burned out, Gomez and Morticia collapsed in sleep against the pile of cushions and furs, Gomez having used the last of his strength to pull his bride close against his chest. In the bliss of the afterglow, no more words were spoken; tender kisses across scratched and scorched skin gave way to peaceful slumber as far outside their underground haven, the sun rose on a new day.


	21. A Dream is What Makes Your Heart Ache

Esmeralda had spent the majority of the day unpacking all of her belongings, and moving them into a good sized bedroom on the third floor of the Addams' estate. But she also spent it fighting the unrge to cry, and fighting the urge to contact Ophelia, wherever she may be.

After having been tased by the police, she was and declared mentally unstable after what she had tried to pull. She then spent six months in the physicatric facility, finally being released on the day of her sister's wedding.

Esmeralda had seen her there, but she wanted not to ruin Morticia's wedding day. It was bad enough she had a hand in nearly ruining her entire life.

However, she was in pain, _no._ She was in complete and utter _agony._ She had talked to Rosemary and Alistair, and had indeed become fast friends with the both of them. But neither the prospect of her new life nor her new friends couldn fill the void, could fill the hole in her heart left by Ophelia and her betrayl. Nor could it, or they fill the constant aching she felt since her husband's death.

They weren't as romantic as her daughter and new son-in-law, but they had their moments. She had loved him more than anybody else. Charles had protected her from the world that had tried to destory her at such a young age. He was the only person who knew about the alcoholic father who beat her every day, the mother who swore to protect her, who looked so much - _too_ much like her, who she was closer to than anybody else in the world. He was the only one who knew about how she had to leanr witchcraft with her mother in secret, because her father found out once and would beat the both of them to death if he found them again, abiut the incident when she was fifteen years old that still haunted her. Her mother was fighting with her drunken father, pleading with him to leave Esmeralda alone, she was just a child. But he wouldn't. He stormed into Esmeralda's bedroom, she was hiding in the closet. And he had her mother by the neck, saying he would kill her if she didn't come out. Well, come out, she did. They got into an altercation, and she was knocked down. Whilst she was knocked down, her father had grabbed Esmeralda's dagger from under her bed, and murdered her mother in cold blood, then left. She ran away from home that day, at her dying mother's urging. She met and married Charles two years later, giving birth to Ophelia at twenty.

They knew the most intimate details about one another. Esmeralda had always been hard pressed, but she was never this cold until her fire had burned out, not even embers remaining of the once powerful blaze. That, that almost destroyed her. But she got up eventually, leaving her youngest to suffer alone. She always regretted that.

It was now four thirty and she was finally finished. Exhausted, she collapsed on her bed, and fell into a restless sleep. She hadn't slept in peace, in over two years.

 _"Esmeralda!"_ She heard a man's voice call.

Esmeralda lept up. She figured it was Alistair, calling her to help Rosemary with dinner. They both apprecisted one another's culinary skills and had recently been making the family meals together.

"Coming, Alistair!" She called and got oriented in the mirror.

 _"Esmeralda."_ She heard the voice coming from directly behind her. She jumped.

"Have I conjured something?" She asked herself, confused.

She heard a laugh. _"No, dear. But maybe you could if you really applied yourself."_

Esmeralda froze, unable to move. It couldn't be. There was no way that that voice... it sounded a tad hoarse, aged but still young at the same time. Very American, no traces of an accent. She knew that voice anywhere. But it couldn't be him. He was-

 _"Dead."_ The voice said. _"Dead. I still can't believe it myself. Angel, you don't know how terribly sorry I am that I left you and our children, don't think ill of me but I am especially sorry I left Morticia to go on without a father. Believe me, I would have laid down my life to stay."_ There was a chuckle. _"But then, I guess, that would quite defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"_

Esmeralda wanted to believe it. Oh, how bad she wanted to believe it. But she couldn't.

 _"I know you think this is a dream, and in a way it is. But I am here. Please, talk to me. My time is limited."_

That was when Esmeralda knew at least some part of this had to be real. If she were imagining this, the words would be, _and I'm never leaving again._ She broke down into a flood of tears and turned around.

There she saw him. He was near five foot eleven, muscular and had fair white skin. His eyes were a dark brown, just like Morticia's. He had a mess of jet black hair, and a mustache. He wore a black suit, his favorite suit... his worksuit. A smile played on his lips, and he resched out his arms.

Esmeralda wasted no time. She ran into his arms, and she actually felt him against her for the first time in years, and it felt wonderful to have him back. She grabbed onto him, desperate, clonging to his suit, now drenched in her tears. They stood in an emotional, silent embrace for minutes on end.

Esmeralda finally looked up. "Charles, it is really you?" She asked.

Charles, tears in his eyes, nodded. _"Yes, angel. It's really me. I swear it."_ He looked her up and down, nothing but love in his eyes.

Esmeralda was now extremely embarrased. "Charles, I am so sorry that you have to see me like this. I look... different, and it's not good, I know."

Charles shook his head. _"Please, you should see how I would look if the roles were reversed."_

Esmeralda laughed. "I've truly missed that sense of humor."

Charles led her over to the bed and they sat. _"I've missed those sparkling eyes."_

Esmeralda smiled. "They were replaced with ice the day you died."

Charles shook his head. _"No, not completely. No light is ever truly gone, just like darkness. One can not survive without the other."_

Esmeralda nodded. "I know. Most of me died when you did."

Charles' look was wounded. _"Well, it will be ressurected. I can't stand to see you like this, darling."_

"Well, this is who I am now." Esmeralda replied, upset.

 _"No, not after I get done with you."_ Charles pushed the curly hair out of her face. _"Tell me, how are the girls?"_

Esmeralda didn't want to tell him, but she figured she had to. She knew lying to spirit(s) had reprocutions, it always did... even if this one happened to be the spirit of her deceased husband. "Morticia is married."

Charles looked as though he were going to tear someone apart. _"What? She is eighteen years old! That feind! Is he good to her, because if he isn't, I swear, I will rip that man's throat out!"_

Esmeralda held up her hands, defending both Gomez and their daguhter. "No, no, Charles. He is the best thing for Morticia, you should see how blissfully unhappy he makes our girl. I mean, I don't know if the boy knows how fond I am of him, but I truly believe he's the one. He worships the ground she walks on, Charles. He really, truly does."

Charles seemed to calm down. _"He had better."_ He paused. _"I like him."_

"But you haven't met him."

 _"Any man who loves and is good to my daughter, is a man I can respect. I'd be happy to call him a part of my family."_ He put a hand on Esmeralda's knee. _"Has Ophelia found a lucky man yet?"_ He paused. _"Better question, has she cleaned up her act?"_

Esmeralda shook her head. She decided she had better let the cat out of the bag. Well, actually, it was more like a wild tiger. Nevertheless, she swallowed her pride and told Charles the whole story, watching his mood swing from confused to angry then back to confused, and sad, and depressed, to melancholy.

Charles swallowed, hard. _"Don't be too hard on yourself, Esmeralda. It isn't your fault, you were confused. But I advise you to think twice if this ever happens again. I still love Opehlia, although I won't ever forgive her for what she did. But she is our daughter, and with time, you'll feel the same way."_ He shook his head. _"And Morticia... who gave her away?"_

Esmeralda shook her head. "I think to hear details about her relationship, you should go and ask her."

 _"Damn it, Esmeralda, you always were a stubborn woman."_ Charles looked at the clock on the wall. _"You're going to hate me, but I only have five minutes, earth time."_

Esmeralda started to cry again. "But there's so much I have to tell you."

 _"Well, now I can watch over you, I moved up a level. There's too much to explain right now. I don't have time, my darling, I must tell you a few things. First off,"_ Charles held her hands. _"You are a beautiful woman, and you will always be. Those eyes of your's will always sparkle to me, and soon they will sparkle to everyone else, even if it's only slightly. Second, don't be foolish."_

"Charles-"

 _"Listen, angel. Don't negelct yourself or your children, don't wish to die. You will someday reunite with me, but you must live your life as fate intended. I miss you too, but with fate is bad. Period. Last, Morticia needs you. You have to be there for her, and someday accept Ophelia back into your heart, which is still just as big as it used to be. You will always be my beautiful angel, and soon you will be with me again."_

Esmeralda grew concerned. _"Soon?"_

Charles shook his head. _"Not that soon, dear. But live your life, be there for your children and your future grandchildren."_

"Boys or girls?"

 _"I don't-"_

"How many?"

 _"I don't know. Please, dear, remember what I've told you. I hope to visit sometime, but I can't know if or when it will be. I love you."_ He wipped her tears.

Esmeralda smiled. "I love you too."

With that, Charles grabbed her and kissed her, as passionatley as he could.

Esmeralda's eyes jolted open, and she looked around the room. He was gone. But through the tears she was now inadvertaintly crying, she was smiling, too. Her new friends and now family members were right. Charles would be here to watch over her, he would visit, he did. It just took some time.

 _"Mother, come down for dinner!"_ She heard Morticia call.

Quickly wipping her tears, and wasting no time, she ran downstairs into the dining room.

There, she found Rosemary setting the table. Alistair was sitting at his place, and Gomez was pulling out Morticia's chair for her.

Esmeralda ran over to Morticia and physically forced her to stand.

Morticia was startled, which was rare for her. _"Mother, what-"_

Esmeralda grabbed her and wrapped her up in an embrace.

Caught by suprise, Morticia hugged her back.

Esmeralda leaned over and whispered in her daughter's ear, _"I saw father."_

Morticia had to stop the tears from falling. She whispered back, then, _"Me too."_

Esmeralda -as if she needed any more confirmation- now _knew_ everything that happened was very real. She then stopped huging Morticia and embraced Gomez. "Gomez, I don't think you know this, but I want you to know that I don't think anyone else is more perfect for my daughter! I love you because you adore her, and I hope you know how much of a wonderful young man you are! Welcome to the family!"

Gomez smiled, and chuckled, pulling Morticia's chair out for her and sitting beside her. "Thank you, Esmeralda."

Esmeralda shook her head. "Just call me Máma, son."

The whole family then ate dinner, laughing and talking as if nothing was wrong because, for once, nothing was.


	22. My Demons Have Been Silenced

Gomez awoke in the dungeon, where he and Morticia had spent most of their private time since she had received it.

She was in love with that dungeon, it was more than everything her darkest desires could even fathom.

He had expected to find his beloved in his arms the moment he opened his eyes, but he found no such thing. He was greeted by the bear skin rug and the multitude of furs piled onto his bare chest.

Gomez sat up, visually searching for Morticia as he did. When he did not see her anywhere, he stood and began to search. He figured Morticia had to be somewhere in that large room.

Meanwhile, Morticia was in their bedroom's bathroom. She had just taken a hot bath, and she now stood at the large, circular bathroom mirror before the sink. Her hair was pinned up with a strand hanging down, and she was clothed in her black robe.

The past couple of days had been wonderful, and she wouldn't trade them for the world. But she couldn't help but get out what she needed to get out, and she wanted to do it behind closed doors.

It wasn't that she didn't want Gomez to see her at this state, no he had already seen her at states far worse in their short time as a couple. No, rather that she needed to be alone for a few moments, to cry.

She was extremely greatful her father had visited her, and she had gotten to catch him up on the events in her life. He had encouraged her to stay in school even though she was married, and he had been happy to hear that she had graduated college early, very early. She had received private tutors all through her junior and senior years of high school with the money her father had left her. She majored in spells and hexes, she had a degree in witchcraft.

But oh, how she missed him. She wished he could have lived to see her get married, to give her away. She wished he was alive and well, so he could watch her become a mother someday... she wanted that so badly, truly she did. What she wouldn't give to see her father alive and well again, now more than ever.

She also cried because she was still getting used to the fact that she just had to cut her murderous sister out of her life for good. That was indeed, a jagged pill to swallow.

She took a black handkercheif and dabbed her eyes.

There came a knock at the door. "Tish?"

Morticia turned towards the door, catching her breath.

Gomez knocked again. "Tish, are you in there?"

Morticia took a silent deep breath. "Yes, darling, I am."

Gomez gave a sigh of releif. "I was worried, you weren't downstairs when I awoke. I thought something might have happened."

Morticia smiled through her tears. He was so good to her. "Thank you, mon cher. I'll be right out."

"Is everything alright?" Gomez asked.

"Yes, Gomez, dear, quite." Morticia nodded and wipped her tears best she could. She took one last look in the mirror, and stepped out of the bathroom.

Gomez immideatley noticed something was wrong. "My darling, everthing is not alright. What's the matter?"

Morticia leaned into him and he embraced her, stroking her back. "Don't think I'm too crazy, darling, but I saw my father a couple of days ago."

Gomez kissed her forehead. "Morticia, that's wonderful." He paused. "Why is this upsetting?"

"Because, darling, while it was great so see him again... I wished he could have been alive for our wedding, to give me away. I wish he could be alive to see me become a mother some day." Morticia confessed.

"I know, querida, as do I. But he watches you, he will see you become a mother." Gomez looked into her eyes. "And I promise you, he will see you become the best mother there ever was one day." He told her.

"Thank you, Gomez. But I was also a bit upset about..." She closed her eyes. "Well, everything that's happened with Ophelia recently caught up to me."

Gomez's heart broke for her, and his eyes flashed with anger. He angrily walked over to the window and grabbed his rapiersthey usually calmed him down. "What did she do this time?"

"Darling, it's-"

He drew the curtains with the one. "I'll kill her!"

Morticia put her hands over her eyes, instinctively. "Darling, the sun!"

Gomez quickly closed them and ran back over to her. "My appologies, amore." Gomez took her hand and led her to their bed, where he sat with her. "You know how passionate I get."

Morticia looked up and carressed his cheek. "I know." She replied, a sensual edge to her voice.

Gomez growled and kissed her palm. "That sun really bothers you, doesn't it?"

Morticia nodded. "I don't know if it has something to do with how pale I am, or some other medical condition." She paused. "The doctors were baffled. They took my sophmore year of high school and turned it into a year of running test after test. The results always said I was healthy. I'm not even anemic, which is a relief. But for some reason, I have this rare form of photosensitivity, and a slight Vitamin D deficiency. There is a sharp pain in my eyes and nothing outwardly happens to my skin, but a terrible burning sensation occurs. If the sun is strong, I'm apt to carry an umbrella. I actually get more use out of that thing in the summer."

Gomez nodded in understanding. "Well, then those drapes shall be closed upon any intrusion from the sun. The nerve it has to try and hurt you. Well," he laughed. "Monseiur soleil is going to have to go through me."

Morticia chuckled, it was barely audible. "Thank you, mon amour." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Ophelia didn't do anything except show up at the wedding."

"She did what?" Gomez asked, upset.

"It didn't put a single ray of sunshine on that beautiful day, Gomez. Don't worry." She said. "It was that I had to cut her out of my life when she showed not a single ounce of remorse for her actions."

That woman truly sickened Gomez. He shook his head, in disdain. "How could you tell?"

"She was trying despesrtley to suck up to me shortly after she found out guilt tripping me wouldn't work. She wanted money, she always does."

"What did you say?"

"I told her to dress herself up, pack her bags and go find herself a sugar daddy."

Gomez smiled, proudly. "Tish, you have a way with words."

Morticia sighed. "I know."

Gomez wrapped his arm around her, holding her hand with his free one. "Tish, do you remember when you said your sister forced you to use what you have... and you stopped talking. It was the morning I found out you were a wtich."

"Of course, dear." Morticia replied, recalling the careless slip of the tounge she had made.

"What did you mean?" He asked her.

Morticia and Gomez had vowed in the dungeon on their wedding night to always be honest with one another. It was a vow they both took very seriously. "I meant that..." She looked down. "She would often make me use magick for revenge, against... a lot of the ladies who were in, competition with her. I refused to kill, but sometimes the punishments for a mere comment were as far as losing their hair or their boyfriends. But all of that stopped when I was fifteen, when I found out she didn't love me."

Gomez was appauled. "Oh, Tish, I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, darling. In a way, it made me stronger. Now, nobody can force me to do anything I don't want to, period." She paused. "Well, that is unless your life depended on it. For you, I'd crawl on my hands and knees through hot coals and broken glass."

Gomez squuezed her hand. "As would I, my darling."

There was a short period of silence. Then the words, "Actually, it sounds quite pleasant." came from the both of them.

Gomez then bent his head down and kissed her.

Morticia sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back.

It was like this for quite some time, and then Esmeralda walked into the room. "Oh, dear God!" She jumped and walked backwards out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She felt no need to replay the scene she had witnessed back at the hotel. Lord, was it going to be like this all of the time? She decided not to answer herself.

Mortcia looked over at the door, then back at Gomez. "Gomez, my mother just walked in."

Gomez shook his head. "Morticia, when I say this, I mean it in the most polite way possible. But, cara mia, does that woman ever knock?"

Morticia laughed. "I believe she's just adjusting, mon cher. But to truthfully answer your question, no. Not usually."

Gomez sighed. "Good to know."

They adjusted themselves to where Morticia was sitting on his lap, and Gomez tightly had his arms around her waist, holding her.

"Mother?" Morticia called.

Esmeralda swallowed, hard. "Decent?" She asked.

"Yes, mother, you can come in now." Morticia replied.

Esmeralda nodded and walked into their bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She had an envelope in her hand. It read, _Mr. Mrs. Addams_ , in bright pink stationary on the front of it.

"I come upstairs, all the way to the fifth floor to give you people mail, and I can't even do that without you two lovebirds trying to make eggs!" Esmeralda rolled her eyes.

Morticia held out her hand, her long nails perfectly painted the dark shade of crimson. "May we open it, mother?"

"No, I came all this way to watch you to make out, so I had reason to get that lazer eye removal surgery that your Uncle Crooply had to get." She replied, sacrastically. She was always extra punchy when tired.

Morticia took the envelope and began to open it.

"Hello, máma." Gomez greeted her.

Esmeralda waved. "Hi, son."

The envelope was opened, and in it was what appeared to be a postcard from Hawaii.

"What does it say?" Esmeralda asked.

Morticia cleared her throat, and began to read.

"Dear Morticia (and Gomez),

I understand you want no contact with me and that's fine. But I wanted to say that you no longer have to worry about me trying to kill you or ruin your life. I've moved to Hawaii and did, in fact find myself a sugar daddy. The bad news is that he left me because he found out about my breif stay in that phsyc ward. And now I am desperatley trying to find a place to stay. I'll take whatever I can get, but I was wondering if you knew anyone? Techincally, you wouldn't be contacting me if you had Lurch write the letter? Please write back, I'm currently residing in an apartment and -holy shit! I just saw a rat. If you don't respond, I'll just die. I understand why your angry, but I'm willing to forgive and forget if you are. ?️️

-signed, Ophelia Anastasia Frump"

Esmeralda's features darkened. "The audacity of that girl!"

Morticia chuckled. "I don't mean to be cruel, but I do believe we know what to do about this letter." She handed it off to Gomez. "Gomez, darling, would you care to do the honors?"

Gomez smiled and kissed her. "Corazón, it would be my pleasure." He replied and tore up the postcard. "I believe the fire in our dungeon could use something else to burn?"

Morticia eyed him, seductively. "Yes, I do believe it does."

"Dungeon?" Esmeralda asked, neither Gomez nor his bride noticed she even spoke.

Gomez lost sense of anybody else in the room. "Il mia incantatore scuro..." His accent grew thicker as he grew more passionate.

"Mon diable noir..." Morticia leaned in and french kissed him, hard.

Gomez grabbed her and reciporicated her force.

Esmeralda felt like she was going to throw up. She took the peices of the letter and began to walk away. "I'll tell Lurch to burn this!" She walked out and shut the door after muttering, "...and my eyes."

Alistair and Rosemary found Esmeralda in the kitchen. "What was in the envelope?"

Esmeralda explained the situation to them.

Alistair nodded. "So, the ripped peices of paper are-"

"The peices of the postcard?" Rosemary asked.

Esmeralda nodded. "Indeed."

"Hey, Esmeralda, would you mind terribly helping me with this recipie I've been working on? Morticia says your wonderful at making it."

"Not at all, what is it?" Esmeralda asked.

"Roadkill soup? The name's misleading because it isn't really roadkill, it's like some... mouse-vegitable conconction?"

Esmeralda's eyes lit up. "I'd be happy to help with that, it was Charles' second favorite dish."

The two ladies walked away, leaving Alistair to deal with the torn up postcard. He rang for Lurch.

"You rang, Mr. Addams?" Lurch asked.

Mr. Addams nodded. "Yes, Lurch." He handed him the shredded peices of paper. "Go burn these, please."

Lurch groaned and nodded.

"Thank you, Lurch." Alistiar paused. "And check on my son later, he hasn't smoked in a while and I'm worried."

Lurch groaned and walked away.

Morticia lied in Gomez's arms, upstairs in their bed that night. They were in their routine position, Gomez with his arm around his dark bride, and her resting her head on his shoulder, as close to him as possible.

"Tish, do you think we did the right thing?" Gomez asked. "In regards to Ophelia's postcard?"

Morticia smiled. "No, I don't believe so." She replied.

Gomez sighed in relief. "Oh, good. I was worried." He stroked her cheek, and her eyes began to close.

"Goodnight, mon cher... je t'aime."

Gomez kissed her. "Goodnight, cara mia. Ti amo."

Gomez watched his darling one's eyes close, and it hit him that he now felt complete. He had not felt complete since Fester had gone, and he hadn't thought about him or that entire situation hardly at all since Morticia entered his world. The sleeping gothic beauty in his arms truly had changed and saved him. He realized then that he loved her not for the way she danced with his angels, but rather for the incredible way the sound of her name, could silence his demons.

With that knowlege, he held her close and fell into a slumber, where his dreams were only of his beautiful bride, and their future. And that was the way it was going to stay. Let it be forever known that he loved her with all his heart, and she did him.

From afar, old Uncle Nicknack was rolling over with thunderous laughter in his grave, at a joke Balthazar had told him. He wished he had the power to make it rain so someone could let him out of there.


End file.
